"How much further is it?" Annabelle asked, wearing a pair of riding breeches and a button up shirt as Dutch helped her scramble over some rocks.

"Not far." He replied as he pulled her up and readjusted his suspender straps. She eyed him suspiciously, noting that he had been a lot sweatier and anxious than usual.

"Darling," she touched his shoulder as he went to turn away from her quickly, "what's going on?"

"Nothing!" He replied holding his hands up in surrender and looking over his shoulder and she narrowed her eyes at him and folded her arms, seating herself on a rocky outcropping and scowling.

"Sigurd…"

"Dutch." He replied with a hiss and she rolled her eyes, continuing to remain seated and frowning at him a little.

"Whatever. You cut your hair, you took a bath, and you shaved. You're wearing more cologne than usual and you're avoiding looking at me. Either you tell me why we're hiking around a cliff or I'm going to push you off of it." She gestured to the edge with the toe of her boot and raised an eyebrow. He hadn't been taking her advice of taking it easy seriously, he was still occasionally letting his inner most thoughts slip out when he spoke to her or others. Once again, he had been acting jealous of John for wanting Annabelle to be the one to teach him how to read instead. Though, it was mostly because she was far more patient with him than her partner was. He was still hiding from her and it was starting to reach a boil again.

"Belle," Dutch turned around and put his hands up a little higher in surrender, gesturing to the path with his fingers, "just a little further, please?"

"Stubborn old goat." She grumbled, standing up as he outstretched his hand and took hers, leading her towards a flat rocky surface ahead of them. He wrapped his arm around her waist and gestured at the tall trees, the sight of Flat Iron lake in the distance, as West Elizabeth unfolded below them.

"This, right here, is one of my favorite places in all of the United States. Isn't it spectacular? Look at it, Belle. The lake, the woods, the settlements, with the mountains behind us! We could retire here. Build ourselves a little paradise." He exhaled loudly even as Annabelle continued to stare at him in both confusion and annoyance, he stroked her cheek with his hand and kissed her forehead. "Don't be like that my darling. I know it was a hike, but I told you it was worth it."

"It is peaceful," she replied quietly, looking over the edge for a moment at the steep drop down and wondering if perhaps he were about to push her over, she looked back at him with genuine concern and his face fell a bit, "you've found another woman, haven't you?"

"Absolutely not!" He gripped her by the shoulders for a moment, chewing his lip and shaking slightly. This was not going the way he had planned. He had been sneaking off with Josiah from time to time, though he could see why she might have suddenly become suspicious of him. But he needed to retrieve the ring as well as ask her cousin for his blessing, after all, Mr. McLean had let them know a long time ago what he thought about Dutch and his daughter. He had spent weeks hoping this would go perfectly, but between her being suspicious and him being frantic to stick to the plan, he realized none of it was going to go the way he hoped.

"Then why–" She began as he decided to just drop to a knee and frantically tried to find the ring in his breast pocket, panicking when he didn't find it there. He growled, looking through his shirt pockets and clutching at the fabric to try to feel where the ring might have hidden itself. She immediately realized and backed away, flushing bright red and turning away from him.

"I swear I had a ring." He held his hands up, sheepishly looking up at her back as she began to hyperventilate, holding her mouth with her hands. He gritted his teeth and raised an eyebrow, his embarrassment turning to genuine concern. "Belle?"

She's going to say no, he thought but tried to swallow the bitter feeling that crept into his chest as he watched her slowly turn back around to face him.

"YES!" She launched herself at him, sending both of them onto the rocky surface as she kissed his face and wrapped her arms around him, giggling and squealing a bit as he groaned in relief and wrapped his arms around her.

"It's why I wanted to be…presentable. It's not like I can ask your father for his blessing, but Trelawny made a decent stand in, I suppose." He closed his eyes, feeling his rapidly beating heart begin to slow as she leaned down and kissed him on the mouth.

"I know it's not proper, but," Annabelle pulled away and reached into her riding breeches to pull out a small box and held it out to him, "I had been thinking about asking too. I had Josiah order it for me from a jeweler in Saint Denis."

"Really? You know, I'm amazed he didn't say anything to you. He...didn't, did he?" He raised both eyebrows as he took the box from her and lay back as he opened it. It was a gold ring with onyx stone in the center and a stylized D in gold stamped on top. He pulled it out and inspected it, smirking a bit as he looked back at her again. "D? Is it me or Dutch you're really in love with then?"

"That's our secret. I know who you really are, no one else needs to know. My cousin didn't say a word, I promise. He is quite capable of keeping secrets you know. And, am I not permitted to love both? Do I have to choose between you?" She whispered back, tapping his nose with her forefinger and giggling.

"If that's what you want. You know you have all of me." He replied quietly, trying to slip it on his ring finger but realizing that it wouldn't fit so he tried his right middle finger and laughed as he flipped her off with it. Pushing the ring down his finger and snorting. "Of course you would."

"What self respecting outlaw would be wearing a wedding band?" She rubbed the empty wedding ring finger and he brushed her braid back behind her, chewing his lip a bit.

"I love you. We should go into town and be proper about this. Outlaws or not." He rested his hand against her cheek and she leaned into it as she felt the band of his ring against her skin and she closed her eyes.

"And I love you," she opened them again, brushing his hair back with her finger tips, "I caught you in the end, didn't I? I didn't know if I could, you know. Loving you is like loving the wild wind. So, I don't need this to be proper. Or befitting a woman of my standing. We're free, darling. The fact you'd even attempt, well, if you can call it that, to propose is enough for me to be happy with. As long as we know, it doesn't matter whether it's right and good in the eyes of the Lord or not."

"Are you sure? I don't have any reservations about–" He began but she held her fingers to his lips to quiet him and nodded.

"I'm sure. 'If anyone has any objections, speak now, or forever hold your peace'." She turned to look back at the view for a moment resting her head on his chest and listening to his heart beat for a while.

"May I kiss the bride now?" He asked, sitting up slightly to look down at her and she chuckled, cupping his cheek in her hand as they kissed one another gently. He chuckled a moment as he felt the ring dig into his hip and he reached into his pocket to pull it out, grabbing her right hand and sliding it into place.

"I thought it goes on the other side?" She raised an eyebrow and he pulled her back down onto his chest.

"According to your cousin, the right is where true Scotsfolk display their bonds of matrimony. You can wear it on whatever side you like. It's not what I had in mind for you, but, Josiah said you wouldn't want something flashy." He chuckled, raising his middle finger again and wiggling it at her.

"I love it, I'm glad you listened to him. I'm never taking it off, you know that?" She inspected the plain gold band around the ring finger on her right hand and rubbed her thumb over the patch of facial hair beneath his bottom lip.

"I am yours forever. And you," he leaned towards her and kissed her, pulling away to whisper, "are mine. Stay with me. Promise me you won't leave me."

"I will never leave you."

—-

"Quite the ring you've got there." The man he had met at the saloon eyed it enviously, causing Dutch to remove his hand from the bartop and pick at the band with his fingers to make sure it was still firmly in place. He had met the man before, allying with him on a few jobs that had turned out rather lucrative for them the last few months. He despised the man standing next to him at the bar though; the way he treated his men, the horrible things he did to bystanders, and the way he looked at Annabelle.

"Colm, was it?" Dutch asked and the man nodded. He and Annabelle had been quietly 'married' for four years or so, John had grown like a weed yet they remained camped out at the base of the cliffside in Cochinay and California seemed like a distant fever dream. They had added a few new members, a couple of Irish boys who picked between this O'Driscoll fellow and him. Colm's lieutenant was his brother, Hamish, though he didn't see him sitting around when he had come into the bar to meet with Colm. Dutch could see Arthur was nearby though, keeping tabs on him and Colm, but chances were that Hamish was probably also nearby as he quickly glanced around the bar to look for the other brother again.

"Yessir," Colm puffed on a cigarette, looking over at Annabelle who sat at a table with Hosea fanning herself with a powder blue fan with thinning lace, "you keep a real pretty whore. If you ever get tired of her, you ought to bring her over to my place."

Dutch turned and realized Colm was staring at her again, undressing her with his eyes and he growled, looking back at the stringy haired man standing next to him. He pulled his hand up to display his signet ring again and rubbed the top of it with his thumb and snorted, glaring coldly back at the other man.

"She ain't a whore."

"Oh? Is that so? Ain't no women in gangs that ain't whores, formerly or otherwise." Colm chuckled, turning back to Dutch and sneering at him, ashing his cigarette into a brass tray and raising an eyebrow.

"You said you wanted to work together again. Now, I don't like you and I don't trust you, but someone wiser than myself once told me 'there is strength in numbers'. We split the profit down the middle. You take half, and I take half. And stay the hell away from the women in my camp." Dutch gestured with his thumb to Colm and then to himself, still furious that the man was occasionally eye-fucking his woman but he knew if he reacted the way he wanted to that Annabelle would kill him. She had been the one to suggest working with another gang to make bigger scores. After all, they were trying to secure enough money to fund the camp as well as keep enough provisions to feed anyone who might be hungry. It was no small secret that Dutch made Pearson prepare enough food so that anyone could come to camp and get a meal. But it was getting costly, though it certainly helped them avoid the law over the years since most of the poor folk relied on their being around. Even the sheriff seemed to completely disregard their illicit activities, since they were nothing more than 'petty thieves' up until now.

"They sound quite wise indeed. Ming says you're trustworthy, well, rather that you're capable so I trust you. Strange times we live in these days, where a fuckin' chinaman can be responsible for an entire underground. Though I heard a rumor that there was a woman in charge alongside him once, can you believe that? I'll keep away from your precious woman, Mr. Van der Linde. I can't promise my men will though." Colm laughed as he lifted his drink to cheers Dutch, who tried his best to smile instead of snarl. "To friendship."

"To friendship." Dutch growled back politely, clinking his glass against Colm's before draining it and setting it down on the bar. "I'll see you here in a week."

"She sure is a beauty though, I'd have her keep off of the job. For her own safety, of course. Wouldn't want anything to happen to her." Colm smirked, rubbing his chin and gesturing with a nod to Annabelle causing Dutch to flush red for a moment as he tried to regain control of himself.

"A woman did run Saint Denis once, and I'm fortunate enough to call her mine. You'd do well to remember that, Mr. O'Driscoll, your men too." Dutch snarled, putting a hand on his revolver that caught his wife's attention as she lifted her dress slightly to reveal a sawed off shotgun resting against her leg tucked into her bright white stocking and Arthur put his hand on his revolver as he stood nearby. Colm snickered, turning his attention back to Dutch and laughing, giving him a little tap on his shoulder with his hand.

"You're soft, Van der Linde. I admit, it is rather sweet though, the whole noble outlaw act you've got going on. A whore is a whore, even if you put a ring on her finger." Colm chuckled as Dutch replaced his hat and motioned at Arthur. Annabelle and Hosea rising from their seats, knowing they needed to meet him outside now. They did, though Annabelle seemed to struggle a bit, resting a fist on the table as she rose and rubbed her temples with her hand as though she were suddenly light headed. Arthur offered her his arm and she took it, allowing him to escort her out into the cool night air. Dutch tugged his black vest down, the chains of the pocket watch glinting in the dim light of the bar as he stepped away from Colm to follow them outside.

Hosea had helped her onto The Count, she gently held her stomach as though she were feeling ill as Dutch made his way outside and she slid her foot out of the stirrup so he could mount the stallion as well. He grabbed the horn and swung in behind her, taking the reins from her as Arthur mounted Boudica, his crimson red mare with a black mane, an even nastier piece of work than The Count.

"Are you alright?" Dutch whispered as he pulled her braid away gently and she nodded, looking paler than usual.

"We need to talk when we get home." She murmured back, biting her bottom lip as he turned their stallion towards the direction of camp.

"I despise that man." Dutch growled, tapping the cremello animal gently as he could with his spur and starting off towards the mountains.

"I know." Annabelle groaned, putting her hand over her mouth and puffing out her cheeks for a moment before swallowing. "But we need to play nice. We've been making decent money recently from teaming up with them, as long as we're civil, we'll be fine."

—-

He rested his head on her navel and swore he could hear another heartbeat other than her own as he did so, he glanced up at her and gently touched her exposed navel. He hadn't been shocked by her confession that she was certain she was pregnant, if anything, he didn't know how he really felt. It was a strange mixture of foreboding, joy, and numbness. The way he had felt when he held Issac for the first time.

"How long do you reckon?" He whispered after a while, running his hand over her before kissing just below her belly button.

"I'll talk to Sue tomorrow." She replied in a hushed tone, pushing hair away from his eyes and setting it behind his ear. She hadn't heard him, he realized, she was somber and she stared off at the ceiling as though she were expecting him to react negatively. It sort of wounded him, that she was miserable rather than anxious or excited.

"I–" He paused, chewing his lower lip nervously as he thought of the right thing to say to her. He wasn't ready, but he knew he had been taking a risk for the past few months, deciding he much preferred recklessly loving her raw rather than worry about the consequences. He had done this to her, he hadn't meant to, but then again it's not like Arthur intended to get Eliza pregnant either. He felt foolish for being angry with his friend now, even though Issac was a toddler now and Eliza still refused to travel with them.

"You're not ready, I know. I'm sorry. I'll do what I need to–" She groaned, putting her arms over her eyes and causing him to move up closer to her and press his fingers to her lips to quiet her.

"I am ready. But…if you're not…" His voice trailed off as he put his hand back on her navel and closed his eyes. She nearly sat up but he gently pulled her in close to him and she let out a gasp of relief, he smirked, he liked that he could still surprise her from time to time.

"What about the gang?" Annabelle asked, putting her hand under his chin and turning him towards her as he opened his eyes and leaned forward to kiss her.

"Little John is almost a man now. You asked me not to make you wait too long. We do this last job with the O'Driscolls and we move on, like we always do. We can go anywhere you want, Belle. If the others want to come with us, that's their choice. How long do you think you've been…?" He rubbed his hand over her belly and she shrugged.

"I don't know. Susan gave me a couple pointers on knowing when we could and couldn't be intimate with each other since you seemed to prefer me over elsewhere, and I tried to follow her instructions to the letter but–" She protested and Dutch moved his hand away from her navel and onto her lips.

"I'm not angry, Belle. Not with you, not with Sue, and not with," he moved his hand back onto her stomach, "them. We can't fight nature or change, Belle. They say you can tell what it's gonna be by the way it's sitting inside you. How do you feel?"

"What do you want them to be?" She murmured, kissing his forehead and running her fingers through his hair.

"Better than their father, smarter than their mother," he closed his eyes again and rested his head against her breast, "healthy as a horse. I don't particularly feel one way or the other about it. I'm afraid, of course, there's a lot that can go wrong. But, as long as you stay with me, I can find courage somewhere. I always do."

"I swore to you that I would never leave you, even after all this time, I don't know why you still worry. Even if something happens to me, I will always be by your side, and wait for you to come home to me." She paused, running her hand along the back of his neck and cradling him in her arms for a moment before she spoke again. "If it's a girl do you want to name her after your mother?"

"Greta is a terrible name, we can surely do better than that. Why not name her after your mother? You've never told me about her. And if we do, have a girl…I have the distinct feeling she's going to take after you far more than me. At least, I pray she does. I am an ugly son of a bitch after all." He closed his eyes and exhaled loudly in contentment.

"Amelia. My mother's name was Amelia. But that's all I know about her. That bastard never spoke about her. I don't even know what she looked like." Annabelle whimpered, feeling her eyes water a bit and covered her eyes with a hand.

"Like you, I suspect, with dark brown hair, fair skin, and love for everything around her in her eyes. How could you not be her spitting image? Oh god," he opened his eyes in horror and glanced up at her, "what if that poor girl takes after me anyway?"

"Then she'll be a raven haired beauty with dark eyes and fair skin, with a pension for mischief and a short temper." Annabelle chuckled, looking down at him with tears still in her eyes. "I love you."

"And I love you both." He mumbled, moving down to kiss her navel tenderly before returning to her, kissing her sweetly as she wrapped her arms around him again.

"And a boy?" She said after a while and he rested his head back on her chest.

"Haas, while that's not exactly regal or dignified, it is an important name to me. Though, I suppose if you want we could just name him something more 'Americanized' like Thomas or Andrew." He grumbled and she shook her head with a chuckle.

"No, if we have a son, you should be the one to name him. Haas Van der Linde," She murmured with a giggle, covering her mouth for a moment and looking down at him, "it sounds like the name of a king."

"It was my father's name. I think he'd be fond of you, if he hadn't gone to fight for the North and gotten himself killed. I don't know what he saw in my mother, but I suppose I'm fortunate that the best parts of me are because of him. He was a good man, unfortunately, I am not." Dutch opened his eyes again and snuggled into Annabelle as if to retreat from his own inner turmoil, feeling her gently massage the back of his neck and closing his eyes again.

"I'll sit out on jobs from now on. I know you've been begging me to, but if you're sure then I will let you handle it. Just try not to get yourself killed." Annabelle said after a while and he nodded in response.

"And stay off of a horse. I've read that it can injure the child. I know I cannot control you, so I will beg you to stay out of trouble. Just for a little while. I'm stressed out enough as it is these days. If those O'Driscoll boys ride into our camp, you need to do your best to avoid them. They're animals, Belle. Colm and Hamish eye you like starving dogs, I can keep myself in check, but I will snap if either of them lays so much as a finger on you and it will be war. You were right to convince me to align ourselves with a rival crew, but, when we've got what we need," he rested his hand on her belly again, trying to feel for that faint secondary heartbeat again, "we move on and never look back."

—-

There was a party in camp the following week to celebrate their successful train raid, though Colm had decided against remaining in Van der Linde's camp for the night, citing that the 'only available whore was too standoffish' for his liking. However, his brother Hamish remained with about four of their men, as they all drank in front of the fire.

Annabelle peered out of the tent flap, she needed to relieve herself and she watched Dutch, Arthur, Hosea, Mac and Davey Callender, and the O'Driscoll's chatting loudly with each other. She caught her man's eye and he gestured with a nod, knowing she was asking him to leave the security of their tent, he eyed the meadow behind their abode and she turned away to exit out the back. He watched her slip out, sneaking along in the darkness towards some bushes and hunkering down behind them.

"I've gotta piss." Hamish stood up, turning towards the meadow where Annabelle had gone and Dutch quickly stood up, pulling his vest down and grabbing a hold of the man's shoulder.

"Hamish, right? You know, I have a couple things I'd like to talk to you about, privately. There's a decent stand of trees over yonder, perhaps you could relieve yourself there?" He raised an eyebrow, trying not to seem nervous as two other boys stood up and also seemed like they wanted to follow Hamish to go urinate as well.

"I don't take orders from you." Hamish snarled, prompting Mac to set the bottle of bourbon down and clear his throat.

"You will respect the boss. I don't like you, or you, or you, and especially you." Mac unsheathed a knife from his boot and began to point it at each man, scowling at them as the exuberant atmosphere turned tense.

"Mac, calm down," Hosea snapped and the Irishman snarled in response, sticking his knife into the trunk of a tree angrily and folding his arms, "ain't no one stabbin', shootin', or beatin' no one. We're all friends here."

"Like I was saying," Hamish stepped away from Dutch and went to look towards the meadow when he caught sight of Annabelle exiting the brush and heading back to the tent, "I thought you said there wouldn't be whores?"

He gestured with his thumb as Annabelle hastily retreated into the tent and shut it tight, her shadowy figure reaching for the bookshelf and grabbing something from it before she adjusted the light and sat on the cot to read.

"She ain't a whore. Or did your brother neglect to inform you? Stay away from my woman, Mr. O'Driscoll." Dutch hissed as the small crew laughed at him and he felt his cheeks flush red for a moment.

—-

It was early morning when she slid over him, clutching her mouth and trying not to vomit as she made her way hastily to the door. He woke up, grumbling a bit as he ran his hand over his hair and yawned loudly, stretching a bit in the cot as she quickly undid the tent flap and immediately vomited into the grass.

"I'm going to gather some herbs for you." Dutch sat up and stretched again, before retrieving his boots and putting them on. His woman said nothing, except to vomit again and groan exhaustedly.

He exited out the front, eyeing the O'Driscolls who had passed out near the campfire with disgust for a moment before heading down the path. He had seen peppermint along the trail the other day, the sun was only able to illuminate the rocky outcroppings around them for now, but there was enough light that he could tell which plants were which. After he finished grabbing a few handfuls of leaves and rubbing his face, cursing himself a little as the mint burned the corners of his eyes for a moment.

"Idiot." He growled to himself, blinking as his eye watered a little.

"LET GO OF ME!" He immediately turned around, dropping the leaves in his hands and sprinted back towards camp, enraged. It was her voice screaming and his heart pounded furiously in his chest as he scrambled back up towards her.

Hamish had her by the hair and had pinned her down on the camp's dining table, fidgeting with his belt and chuckling as she roared and kicked at him angrily.

"I ain't gonna hurt you, well," Hamish leaned forward, "I might."

"DUTCH!" Annabelle screamed, it only enraged him further as he made it back into camp and roared at the man assaulting his woman.

"I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!" Dutch spat still charging towards them as quickly as he could as Hamish pulled himself out of his pants and tore at Annabelle's nightgown. He reached for his gunbelt but remembered that he was basically in just his longjohns and so he went for the one thing available to him, Pearson's butcher's knives. He grabbed one and twirled it in his hands just as Hamish had lifted Annabelle's night dress and sunk it into the man's neck, pulling him away from her.

"Annabelle?" It was Susan who came rushing to her and covered her with a shawl, the young woman was sobbing, clutching to the woman and shaking. Hosea, Arthur, and John had woken up as soon as the girl screamed, and so were Mac and Davey. Their guns were all drawn and pointed at the remaining O'Driscolls who cowered in horror as Dutch continued to stab Hamish. He didn't even have words, he just screamed as he plunged the knife over and over again into Hamish O'Driscoll. He could feel the blood make the handle slippery as he continued to cut, stab, and open up the now dead lieutenant. He roared again as the knife slipped out of his hand and clattered to the ground.

"KILL THEM!" Dutch screamed at his boys who opened fire instantly, letting every round in their weapons go directly into the four men on the ground. He panted, feeling his pajamas stained with blood as he clutched at his chest and began to rise.

"You alright, Miss Annabelle?" John asked, stepping away from the other men and trying to walk towards her when Hosea quickly put his hand on the young man's shoulder and gestured at Dutch. John nodded, the leader was already enraged and it would only further irritate him if John was the first of the men to comfort her.

"H-h-he–" Annabelle began but immediately started wailing again, trying to sink to the ground but Susan held her tightly in her arms, stroking her hair and shushing her.

"It's okay, you're safe now. Let's get you into some clothes." Susan whispered, nudging her in the direction of the tent and the woman hiccuped, swallowing loudly and looking over at Dutch who was wobbling a bit as he panted.

"Come here," He begged, holding his arms out to her and she tore herself away from Susan and practically ran into his arms, "it's alright. We're okay. I would never let anything happen to you."

He was angry he had left her undefended, he cursed himself for being careless as she clung to his bloody clothes and melted down. He could feel his eyes watering, but he didn't care that everyone could see him begin to cry. He kissed the top of her forehead and closed his eyes, letting his tears fall into her hair and onto her face as she gasped in his embrace. He lowered the hand with his ring to her navel, as though to comfort the child inside her as well.

"I thought she might be, how long has she been with child, Dutch?" Hosea asked, taking note of the way he had delicately placed his hand on her. The other men seemed shocked by this sudden revelation. Susan folded her arms, chewing her lip for a moment before nodding quietly to herself. Upset they hadn't even confided in her. Annabelle had done well to hide her condition from all of them, up until today.

"We don't know. We need to break camp now. Hosea, can I trust you boys to make the arrangements? We'll meet up again soon. Right now I need to be with her, alone." Dutch whispered and Hosea nodded, gesturing to the rest of the men to start getting ready to break camp and go their separate ways.

"I'll go with you. It'll be better to have an extra set of hands around just in case." John said, stepping forward as Dutch looked over at the young man and snarled.

"What part of 'alone' do you not comprehend, Mr. Marston?"

"Thank you, son. But listen to Dutch. We're going to be okay." Annabelle managed to settle down enough to peer over at the young man and sighed, resting her head against him and closing her eyes again.