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Chapter 21
Horseshoe Overlook vibrated with the early morning light. The atmosphere was typical with the usual activities—some gang members conversating around tents, others attending to chores, and few sleeping. Arthur found himself on the outside part of the camp, sitting against a log.
He never thought he would enjoy the aspects of living as much as he did after being diagnosed with TB, but well, he did.
Watching the few animals hopping around gave him a peace that he never noticed before. Hearing the camp buzzed with activity, the folks not knowing what was to come, even Dutch, only sent another throbbing ache up his chest when he'd thought 'bout how quickly things would go downwind.
While many of the women didn't have much care for Kieran, they'd quickly adapted to the fact that Kieran and Mary-Beth had a "special friendship" as Karen and Ms. Grimshaw have put it; and so he was surrounded, telling them 'bout the bear HE shot. Egoistical bastard...
Arthur would do the same.
"Hahahaha, so Arthur found a new buddy when I was gone?" The familiar form the Irish asked, eyeing Kieran. "Don't have time for yer good old Sean MacGuire."
"He's far more tolerable," Arthur chuckled, gripping his shoulder tightly to ensure him that he still cared.
Sean smirked. "I'll get new ways to annoy ya later!" The Irish broke off. "Gotta go feed Lenny! Have fun!"
He heard the sounds of footsteps and saw the form of Sadie breaking off from the rest of the women and coming up to him. The woman had been somewhat happy. But there was still a long way to go.
"Hello, Mrs. Adler."
She allowed a rare smile, "Is it true that Mr. Duffy stared down the bear without fear while you shot it?"
"Not how I remember it," he snorted. "So how have you been?"
"I'll live," she replied, proving that part of her was still weak at the knees when it came to the mentioning of what had been happening lately. "I'm kinda glad we got away from all that snow. It gives me hope to move on from everything."
Arthur nodded. "I understand."
"I want to say... thank you for being here. It feels good to have a... friend among these bunch of strangers." Sadie said slowly, not yet the eventual hardass she had grown to be.
"I'm always going to be here if you need me, Mrs. Adler, but I'm not the only one available. If you need advice, you could always go to Mr. Matthews. He lost the love of his life as well." Maybe, with Hosea's guidance, Sadie would be able to learn that she has the means to truly move on from the events. He'd often assisted with Abigail and Jack with Johnny boy neglecting his fatherly duties.
"I will do what I can..."
"...And?" Arthur asked.
"I want to ask you if we can... um, head out. Later. To one of them cafe or whatever they call it in town."
Arthur thought 'bout it for a moment. What harm could it bring?
"Sure."
Sadie nodded. "...Okay, well, see you later."
She turned around, and rejoined the rest of the gang, leaving him behind to remain there for the rest of the morning, taking in the time.
"Mr. Morgan," Strauss greeted, correcting his spectacles. "A moment, if you will. I meant to approach you sooner but you have been troubled and I presumed that you needed-"
Knowing that any concern of his wasn't something that he'd cared 'bout, Arthur decided to get to the matter at hand. "What do ya need, Herr Strauss?" He inquired, though he had a feeling he knew what it was.
The aging, monocled man clapped his hands behind his back, a habitual stance that frequently preceded matters of business. "There's a matter that requires your attention, Mr. Morgan. A debt, to be precise. Thomas Downes. A farmer. A gooder if you called it. Seems he's fallen behind on his payments. Quite pathetic if you ask me. He needs the right persuasion to be reminded of his-"
"I'll do it. Is that all?" Arthur inquired bluntly, squashing the disgust worming in his gut.
"No, there's a few others," the man responded, indifferent to his tone of voice. "A Chick Matthews, works at Guthrie Farm. He's a hand, I believe. Mr. Wróbel… the small holder at Painted Sky, runs the operations there—badly. Miss Lilly Millet is a ranch maid up at Emerald Ranch."
"Okay."
Strauss warned calmly, "Do try not to kill them, Mr. Morgan. It's very bad for business." he pulled out the list and handed it to him, "and be sure to put the debts in the deed box when you return."
"...Alright." Arthur took the list from his hand and headed straight to the horses. He would be dealing with them all at the same.
It didn't take long for Arthur to handle the debts, though not the way Strauss may have thought he would.
Chick Matthews had attempted to run as soon he saw Arthur asking for him-he quickly reassured the man that he wasn't going to hurt him, but just that he needed to watch out.
Mr. Wróbel was slightly more irritating. The man couldn't speak the slightest of English nor Spanish, grating on Arthur's nerves nevertheless, but he managed to get the point across 'bout being careful from loaning from gangsters…
Yet, not everything was to be changed. It did de-escalate into violence. When he walked up, he heard the sound of a man in a deep argument with a woman.
"I told you I'd get you the money soon so many times, and I will get it."
"We have been through this. If you didn't get the money this week, who's to say you will next?" she replied in a flat tone.
"Don't you take that tone with me, I thought you said you loved me."
"I-I do! I do," he repeated, "but I don't make enough money for one person, let alone two."
"Scuse me." Arthur interrupted, playing idiocy, "I'm looking for a Lilly Millet. That wouldn't happen to be you, would it?"
The arguing lovers halted to look at him, the man glaring as the outlaw dismounted. He didn't want to fight, but he was prepared should it escalate to violence.
"I— yes, that'd be me. Why?" She looked terrified as she took in Arthur's bulky appearance.
"Be careful borrowing money from gangsters, Ms. Lilly. You pushing your luck is going to result in unwelcoming consequences."
"Don't talk to my woman like that," Copper growled, "'I ought to teach you a lesson in manners!"
"Copper!"
"You don't want to do this, sir," he responded, tensing up. When would some people learn the hard way 'bout why attempting to impress a woman wasn't a good idea when it came to mangling with a stranger who you don't even know?
The man didn't respond, swinging his fist forward to Arthur's right side, almost knocking him down. Having enough, Arthur placed aside his morality for later, righting himself and raising his fists. Cooper took a moment before punching out at him again. Arthur deflected and gripped his outstretched arm, slamming him over his head. Would leave pain for a day, but not as painful as it could have been.
"Please don't kill him!" Lilly shouted as she approached the form of the two men, her hands outstretched in his direction.
"I don't want to harm you, ma'am, but this idiot should have never attacked me. You don't borrow money from a gang and not expect for things like this to happen." Arthur advised. "Fortunately, I'm not an ordinary type."
The woman bit her lip and nodded, understanding now that Arthur didn't want to bring harm to her. He even left the man with whatever he had.
He righted his hat and turned around, ignoring her helping her lover up and inside the house.
Shame now accompanied. A small part of Arthur couldn't blame them - anyone - for assuming that he'd wanted to bring pain to them. He was still part of an infamous gang, no matter how much he'd wanted to share to the world.
But now that he was finished with that, he had one objective left.
Thomas Downes.
The ride to the Downes' residence was terrifying. Longer than any ride 'ought to be. There was an impending feeling of doom lingering over his shoulders. His chest squeezed as it did throughout all those weeks. The faint sounds of coughing were in the air. He couldn't help but feel like everything depended on this.
He was thinking again, remembering his first time coming to the Downes' ranch, and he didn't want to admit it but he was terrified. It was possible that fate would damn him and want him to suffer for all those months for the lives that he have taken.
There was never true pain in his life that went as far as TB. TB meant choking a lot, vomiting, and coughing. For this reason, part of him was tempted to have Micah be sent to the Downes' residence. But knowing the rat bastard, he might have killed the boy and the woman, which was why he immediately dismissed the idea.
It was getting close to the afternoon, borderline the evening, but the sun was still out. Part of him wished it was dark, so he could leave a note warning them 'bout where to go, 'cause he knew Herr Strauss may not care even if they pay off. He always found a way.
He didn't realize he was thinking so much he almost crashed Ryan against a tree. He squeezed tightly over the reins and kept his eyes forward. How hypocritical. He'd often warned Sean 'bout why he shouldn't sleep on the job, or why keeping his eyes forward was the good thing to do. Yet, that same message couldn't apply to himself.
He wanted to run. He ain't never ran away from a challenge, but this... this was beyond terrifying. Everything that had happened at the worst possible time. Death after death. Words after words. The mood of the camp darkened. The threats of the Pinkertons. Only one brother remained among what had once been a devoted family. He could hear cries, shouts, gunshots, saw John look at him that last night, and knew that he ain't gonna be leaving… he was simply not strong enough to remain a face of confidence as his body began to shut down.
Arthur pulled Ryan's reins to a stop within the tree line, the ranch itself just out of sight. He kept the horse some distance away, wanting nothing more than to climb on the Walker and accelerate far, far away.
He was too arrogant the first time around, caring too much 'bout the goddamn gang, 'bout loyalty to Dutch, and appeasing his ego not to care 'bout himself, 'bout others. The "gang code" made it clear not to target innocents, and they have all broken that, using sweeter terms to make themselves feel better. For a moment, as he finally reached the ranch, he just remained there, not able to move.
He could almost hear the same sound he heard the last time, except the sound continued in his head - the clang as he shoved the rake aside, as it hit the ground, the slap as he struck Mr. Downes across the face, inflicting horrible punches to him, his own voice, shouting. This time, Arthur would approach differently with precaution.
Absently, he reached his side and tied his bandana on, securing it sternly above his nose. His hand wrapped around his bandana, simple and black. It was selfish, but he wasn't gonna risk catching tuberculosis again. Why approach when he had something that could prevent him from getting it? Even if Mr. Downes doesn't cough in his direction, Arthur would still head to one of the general stores for a change. He needed to be strong. To survive. For John. For Jack.
When he reached the nice climate of New Hanover, he couldn't help but feel his hands shake.
He stepped down from Ryan and traveled through the tall, fresh grass. Ryan munched on the grass.
In front of the patio area, there was a woman - Mr. Downes' wife. When she looked at Arthur, she cowered slightly.
"Yes?"
Arthur frowned. "You don't have to fear me. I have no intention to hurt anyone." In a show of trust, he gripped the revolver and passed it in her direction. She hesitated for a moment before reaching out but pushing it back.
He holstered it, "I need to speak to your husband."
"Why?"
"I got to warn him about something."
"Hmmm, will you like to come inside?" She asked, passing the revolver back to him now that she was at ease.
"Sure," he accepted, feeling nothing but pity for her now.
On the inside, the place was nice and habitable, somewhere Arthur would definitely like to take it easy. The floor was void, save for a rug on the floor, likely coated by a wolf. There was also a long wooden table with three chairs, a couch, and a rocking chair. The centerpiece was a large fireplace, currently unlit since it was warm and light outside.
Mrs. Downes insisted that Arthur sit down on the couch, then dashed off to her kitchen as the familiar noise of a whistling kettle echoed in the air. "I was making hot water. Will you like some?"
Not having the heart to say no, Arthur nodded. "Sure."
A tall, tin mug was placed on the table before him. Hot water with a few random herbs and flowers tossed in. It had a strong smell 'bout it.
"He always say I should be more welcoming to people," she said, her strong voice not hiding the ache she was currently in. Arthur hummed as the drink was poured in a cup, and after waiting for her to get her fillings, he began to drink, "What you want with him, anyhow?"
"It's... it's 'bout the debt..." Arthur decided to be honest.
Mrs. Downes' face fell. "Thomas had a plan to pay off his debts when the next harvest season came."
Arthur nodded, "It's not like Herr Strauss is very forthcoming concerning the actual terms of his loans; a pretty common refrain among the debtors. What kind of legitimate loan expects repayment in full in so short a time? Your husband fell into the wrong crowd." Indeed, perhaps Downes' worst sin was naïveté; he didn't realize what kind of people he was getting into business with.
"I don't know what to do. How to repair from this." Her lip trembled slightly. "Thomas is going to die soon. He tried to tell me he will not but I know. What sleep will be his last?"
"Your husband is a good man. He do something I don't think I could do. He did not have put his family before anything and anyone, but that makes him a better man than if he has chosen to value the quality of his families lives than that of the poor and weak."
She couldn't respond for several seconds before she managed softly, "Thank you." her face fell, "we can't pay the debt."
"I know." he responded grimly.
"If you want to kill me, you can. Work me to the early grave too to recompensate. I know that's why you're here. I just ask for you not to kill my son." She grew more and more desperate. "You can even sleep with-"
"No," he dismissed her concerns adamantly. "I'm not doing any of that."
The memory of his last meeting with Mrs. Downes before she'd left last time plagued his mind.
'I'm ashamed…'
'Don't go and get yourself killed because of your pride...'
"I understand Thomas has done so much good for this world and I plan to abolish his debt."
Her face lit in surprise, just as he heard the door open and close behind her. Her son, Arthur knew. He came to her side and stared at his tall frame, no doubt hearing at least some of the words. Support, he offered.
"I want to give you. Each of you an out. I know a Sister." He doesn't, not yet anyway. But she would help. She did a lot for him and opened his eyes when Dutch was unable to do so. "Sister Calderón. She could use some assistance. She's down in Saint Denis." Right, she didn't yet go to Mexico. On that thought, he wondered if Javier would ever go back to Mexico like he'd wanted. Pushing aside that thought, he continued. "It would help you get back on your feet. I know it's surprising. But for now. Take this. This money is clean. You won't see me again." He pulled out bills and offered them in her direction.
He was met with silence. He'd feared that he failed, that someone would come and kill them. In the other life, Mrs. Downes and the young boy made it. They'd gotten out. But in this one, he may have doomed them all.
Of course, Mrs. Downes was put in a tight position. Many people didn't want to hire her 'cause she was a woman. Women couldn't work aside from a few means. He'd never got that. The woman proved she was a strong one, stronger than plenty he'd known. She was selfless, caring 'bout her son, 'bout her husband. She'd needed help.
"Thank you," was all she said as the son grabbed the money, smiling as well.
"Take care of your ma and yourself, you hear me?"
Something told him this wouldn't be the last time he'd seen them.
"Sister would help. She always helps." Arthur didn't need to even tell her 'cause she wished to atone for her younger days, just like Arthur.
"Will you like to stay over for dinner?" The woman offered.
"I'm afraid I cannot. I have to get back... home." He refused gently. He didn't want to intrude on their lives further.
"You're a good man, I hope you know that." she said.
Another pang of guilt assaulted him, "Believe me, I'm not."
Still, when he left the Downes' residence, he breathed a sigh of relief, knowing eventually they would be alright.
It was not just avoiding TB, but helping them just after the unforeseen tragedy. He didn't even meet with Mr. Downes. He must have been sleeping. Last time, Arthur would have waited over and over again 'till he found the sick man. This time, he ain't have plans to make the health of the man even worse.
As if symbolizing the mood, the sun began to set, as Arthur Morgan rode back to camp.
