A/N: So, my driving permit expired. I tried to renew it, but the next appointment they had was thirty days after it expired, meaning I would have to take the written test again. So, I did, failed it, spent four days studying instead of writing, retook the test, passed with flying colors, and now, after being super late on this chapter, here we are.
I'm gonna go scream and play Hyrule Warriors, now. Wheeeeee…
As predicted, most of the gang ended up sleeping in after last night's festivities. However, no one, not even Miss Grimshaw, was really bothered by it. Except maybe Micah, but no one gave a damn about that. Hearing little Jack's voice as he talked and played, put the minds of everyone at ease. Even Cain seemed chipper today.
Arthur almost forgot about last night, until he opened his eyes, and found Sam curled up next to him.
Arthur couldn't believe it, but he was smiling at this. He never thought he would wake up with a lover at his side again. Happiness was a dangerous emotion for an outlaw. His heart fluttered, thrumming in his chest. It was a shame that soon they would have to get up and continue their work. Everyone would. Last night was amazing, but they were still a long way from paradise. Whether that place was still out west or not, was up in the air now.
It was not a surprise to find Karen hungover after last night. Others were, too, even Kieran. Still, after enough time passed, Miss Grimshaw put everyone back to work.
Sam had to borrow one of Arthur's shirts after last night. He tried his best to ignore the stares and grins as he walked around camp, getting breakfast, before sitting down with Arthur. They didn't talk much while they ate, but it was fine. They were just enjoying each other's company. It wasn't long before Charles joined them, enjoying the presence of friends who also appreciated the need for silence. Sadie showed up, too, fixing up her weapons, and so did John, who was having a morning cigarette.
Lily looked on at the sight from the sitting room inside of the dilapidated manor. It wasn't far from the makeshift infirmary. As much as she was tempted to go out and join them, seeing Arthur and Sam together made her heart sink. She turned away from the window.
Was it a crime that every once in a while, Lily thought about what Archie was up to? What was he doing? Was he safe? She looked down at her jeans. Would he have approved of a woman wearing pants like a degenerate?
Lily sighed and leaned her head back against the wall.
"Forget him."
She heard it over and over back at Horseshoe. "Forget" the boy who befriended you and your cousin after losing her mother. "Forget" the times you spent together. "Forget" the man Lily watched him blossom into. "Forget" the man she had practically spent her whole life with.
Lily felt selfish for thinking such things when she would sometimes see Sam and Arthur together. As unusual as it was, she had to remember that she was an outlaw, now. They lived outside of the law, where anything could happen. As bad as it seemed at the beginning, it also meant good things. Lily was happy for Sam. She had always wondered why Sam never wanted to find himself a gal.
Because he wanted a guy.
Lily heard a moan, and looked over to the other couch, where her current patient was lying on. Miss Molly O'Shea sat up, mumbling, holding her head, tears escaping her eyes. Lily just stayed where she was and watched.
"Bloody hell…" Molly groaned to herself. "What have I done… I would… I would never…" She hid her face in hands. "Why..? She looked for a moment and flinched upon seeing Lily before her. "Wha… What are you-"
"I brought you here to rest after I saw you walking around near the swamps," Lily informed her. "A gator could've nabbed you."
Molly shrugged. "It's not like Dutch would've cared." She sighed and hid her head in her hands once more. "He lied to me! He laughs at me!" Lily gulped as more sobs wracked Molly's body. "He bloody loved me! I know he did! He made a goddamn fool out of me!" She caught Lily's gaze. "Why are you staring at me?!"
Lily was, in fact, staring at Molly. She saw how her form was shaking, her red hair was a mess, and her eyes were almost red as well from crying so much. Still, Lily sat before her. A doctor's duty was to heal, not judge. Although she wasn't sure how to deal with this type of hurt that Molly was feeling, she did know one thing:
"You think you're the only one who's had your heart broken?"
And despite her hungover stupor, she looked over at Lily, who had finally grabbed her full attention.
"You could leave, but that would be a death sentence," said Lily. "It's dangerous alone, especially for a woman." She stood up, walked over to the girl and sat down next to her. Molly didn't move away or make a comment, "but if you destroy yourself in the process, what good will that do?"
Molly shook her head. "It doesn't matter. He lied to me, laughed at me… all the way across the Atlantic, nearly as far as the Pacific… Then what? Stay here and be the laughing stock of everyone?!"
Lily held her hand. "Well… you can let him turn you into that, or you can do something about it.
"I-I…"
"But, if you want that… you're gonna have to get out of your own head."
The day continued as normal. Sam was killing time before he had to go to Saint Denis and meet with Bronte. Arthur was probably out exploring, which was a regular occurrence. Usually, he came back with something, so it was fine.
Molly wasn't upstairs in Dutch's room. It seemed like nobody even took notice, not even Sam who was up there at the moment with Dutch. Sam was too busy embracing his life as an outlaw and falling in love with Arthur to notice.
"And you're sure you have everything?" Dutch asked him.
Sam nodded. "Ammo. Medicine. Poison. Whiskey. Knife. Extra knife." He searched through his satchel one more time to make sure everything was there, which it was. "I can't believe you're sending me to him. You know he's probably playing us."
"Oh, I have no doubt about that," said Dutch. He helped close up Sam's bag and moved some hair in Sam's face, looking over him like a concerned mother. "I'm not just gonna send you out to the wolves. I've got Bill and Javier heading into town. They're going to get a layout of the city and see if they can find anything to get us some money while we wait for the mayor's party. They'll back you up."
Sam smiled and nodded. "Thank-you, Dutch."
The leader put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "That's my boy. Your mother would be proud."
That sentence gave Sam pause. "Did…" He looked downward for a moment. He could kind of feel the pocket watch in his coat ticking like a heartbeat in his chest. "Did… What was she like?"
And now, Dutch was given pause, as well. He took his hand away, Sam's eyes practically reflecting Dutch's image in those mirror like irises. He walked over to the nearest window.
"Sorry…" said Sam. "Maybe I shouldn't have-"
"She visited you once a year, didn't she?" said Dutch.
Sam nodded, and then remembered that Dutch was facing away from him. "Yes. She would sometimes bring gifts, and she argued with my uncle sometimes. I was too young to really understand what it was about, but she would take me on her horse and we'd go to places outside of Valentine. She knew how to fish and hunt and tried to teach me once, but I was too busy making chains out of grass blades. She also taught me some pickpocketing techniques."
That's when Dutch finally laughed. "Of course she would." He turned to Sam and sighed, a smile on his face. "She was a lovely woman. Above that, she wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty. She stood beside me, not behind me. I guess you could say she was… brave. Maybe it was why she died, but if she were here, I don't think she would say she regretted her choice." He swallowed, the memory of her smile rose up to the surface for a moment. "Well, let's turn the table. Did she say anything about me?"
"I don't know why she wouldn't let me see you," said Sam, "but she said that I could when I was ready. She loved you. You were… complex." Sam shrugged. "I didn't really get it at first, but she also said that you fought for what you believed in, just as she did." Dutch's heart fluttered as he saw Sam's eyes sparkle while he reminisced. "It excited me. She made you sound like a character in one of those story books Uncle Cliff would read to me. I was really determined to learn to use a gun so I could become strong enough to see you. But then…" His eyes drifted away from Dutch. He lifted his right hand, balling it up into a fist. "After she died, I… I thought I'd never get to see you, but…" He looked back at Dutch and a soft grin came back to him. "I now know Uncle Cliff wanted it to happen. That could be the only reason he was keeping tabs on you."
"I'm sorry…" said Dutch. "Your uncle died looking for me. If I had known…"
Sam shrugged. "Well, it's too late now. At least we're finally here." He gasped and took out his pocket watch. "Shit! I'm gonna be late!" The young outlaw tucked it away and rushed to the door. "I'll be back before you know it!" He opened the door, adjusted his hat and closed it once he was out.
Dutch turned back to the window, looking outside. Soon enough, he saw Sam and Lily out there. They went towards their horses and set off for the city. He watched them ride off, happy that he found Annabelle's little boy, and confident that they would get her the justice she deserved.
Sam and Lily rode into Saint Denis. Finally, Lily got to see the city herself. She was about as amazed as Sam was when he first saw it. He knew, however, that in time, it would wear off.
They arrived at the mansion of Angelo Bronte. People were already there to take care of their horses. Lily looked up, almost intimidated at the house before them. She did see a few white doves circling around the roof and then they were escorted inside. At the door, they were frisked for any hidden weapons, but other than that, they were allowed to keep their sidearms and knives on their gun belts. Before anything, they were taken to the living room. At least the air was less tense than last time.
"Ah, the killer himself, Mr. Hawkeson," said Bronte. He stood from his seat to shake his hand. Then, he saw Lily next to him. "And who is this bella donna?"
Lily had no idea what a "bella donna" was, but the smile the Italian had must have meant something. She smiled nonetheless and extended her hand.
"This is my cousin, Lily," said Sam. "She's also very skilled in the medical field, so I brought her along to help me. I hope that's okay."
"No worries," Bronte said, taking her hand gently to shake it.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Signore Bronte," Lily said, grinning.
"Please, the pleasure is all mine. Now, if you will please follow me, I will show you where you will be working."
Sam and Lily followed Bronte out to the back door of the manor. There was a house to the left of the garden. There seemed to be more living space inside. Sam assumed it was for Bronte's staff.
"It has been a while since my men last had a check on their health," said Bronte. "Just make sure their needs are taken care of. And don't worry about acquiring any prescriptions they may need." He chuckled as he lit up a cigar. "I have people who will take care of that. Well, buona fortuna."
Bronte saw himself out, leaving Sam and Lily alone. The living area they were in wasn't as fancy as Bronte's, but in a way, it made the two feel more at home. The simple wooden floorboards, the carpet, the wooden chairs and the basic couch gave them a sense of familiarity.
Lily and Sam got set up. They definitely did not forget to bring their medical equipment, cleaning them up before use, just like Cliff taught them. There was no place to hang their tools, so Lily just rolled out a clean rag on the coffee table to place them on.
Soon one of the henchmen came in. Their first patient, the duo assume.
"Ah, hello," said Lily. "Please come in. I'll just need your name and age and we can get started. Have no fear. All paperwork will remain here at the estate."
"As you wish, bella donna," the man said. He took off his coat and Lily took it for him. She folded it neatly before setting it down on the table. Sam tried not to stare daggers at the flirtatious comment. He also had no idea what a "bella donna" was, but he heard it twice. The last thing Lily needed right now was more heartbreak.
So the two got started. They measured his height, weight, checked his heart rate, checked his throat and respiratory system. Then they tested his reflexes. After that, he was free to go.
Lily smiled as he left, waving gently. Sam finally relaxed a bit when he saw it. It was the same kind he would always see back home.
Despite Bronte's men possibly having good pay and housing, some of them were actually quite clumsy. One came in, having tripped down the stairs of the porch and sprained their ankle. Then, he sprained his wrist trying to hobble to where Sam and Lily were and tripped through the door.
Of course, there were a few that came in with scrapes and bruises. From what? Sam and Lily did not know, nor did they ask. It was not their job to. Outlaws or not.
"This should help with the swelling," Sam said, as he applied an ointment to a henchman's forehead. His patient was sitting on one of the chairs. "Apply this every three hours." Sam handed the bottle to the man. He nodded and Sam saw him out, greatly knowing that he just repeated his uncle's words from all those months ago.
Still, Lily and Sam got into a rhythm, and once they saw out their last patient, a servant came in with two plates. When he put it down at the table the two were sitting at, the young adults hesitated. But then the servant took a bite out of both meals to assure the guests that it wasn't poison.
So Sam and Lily looked down and were shocked to see spaghetti. It was that mythical food Jack spoke of.
"You will receive your payment at the gate," said the servant. "Mr. Bronte says thank-you for your service."
Lily nodded, placing a hand on her chest. "It was a pleasure, Signore."
The servant grinned. He gestured to her and left. And Jack was right! Spaghetti was super delicious!
Sam and Lily met up with Bill and Javier at the gate. The servant hadn't lied about payment, either. They each received a couple hundred dollars for their work. So, they mounted up on their horses and started heading back.
"They do anything to ya?" Bill asked.
"Nope," said Sam. "We just gave a check up to all of Bronte's men at the estate and ate spaghetti."
"So he gave some to you, as well," said Javier.
"I would've like to show that Bronte feller what happens when you take a child like that!" Bill grumbled.
"Well, they didn't hurt him," Lily reasoned. "They spoiled Jack rotten. I thought they were nice."
"I'm gonna guess they're nice as long as you stay on their good side," said Sam.
"Make sure you tell Dutch everything," said Bill. "He'll know what to make of all this."
Sam nodded. "Of course, of course." And they rode off into the night. It was weird, but Sam could say today went well.
It was nightfall by the time Sam, Lily, Bill and Javier arrived back at Shady Belle. Right after Sam got Aurora set up at the hitching posts he was already scampering off to find Arthur.
Dutch chuckled as Sam practically barrelled through the camp. He was relieved that Sam and Lily did not come to any harm. Like a good member of the gang, he told Dutch about anything he saw, while they were near the fountain in front of the old plantation house.
"And they gave you spaghetti, as well?" Dutch asked.
Sam nodded. "You need to try it. It's goddamn amazing!"
Dutch scoffed. "Well, when I meet an Italian nice enough to share, sure. Did you find anything important?"
Sam shook his head. "No. They were keeping a close eye on us as we worked. Lily said there were a few of Brandon's doves flying around there." The young man reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "But I snuck around a little and got this. I don't know if it'll do anything, but…"
Dutch took Sam's paper, which turned out to be two sheets. It was a hand drawn layout of Bronte's property. There were labels marking where the doors and windows were, the fountain in Bronte's garden and a dock in the back that connected to a river.
"How in the-"
"Lily helped me with some of it," said Sam. "She was able to charm some of the men into letting their guard down, and was able to look around more than I was."
Dutch chuckled to himself. "Well, good job. This could be useful for something. For what? I don't know. Not yet. Now, go get some rest. You've probably had a long day."
"Okay," said Sam. "But where's Arthur?" He looked left and then right. "I wanna tell him where I've been."
"Oh, he's not back yet."
"Wait, what?!" That was when Sam's tone changed. His blood ran cold, and the fact that Dutch said it so casually didn't help. "What do you mean he's not back yet?"
Dutch sighed. "Sam, he goes out like this all the time. You know this."
Sam leaned forward, his mouth opening to yell. "That's what you said last-"
Finally, Lily walked over and firmly gripped Sam's shoulders, pulling him away from the gang leader and towards the old house.
"Sam, you're tired," said Lily. "Just calm down."
"Calm down?!" Sam almost shrieked. His voice turned heads throughout the camp. "He's out there by himself! Why is no one doing anything?! He still has pain in that shoulder. Did he forget the medicine for the pain? And what about-"
Dutch just waved them goodnight, hearing Sam's panicked voice disappear inside.
"Colm O'Driscoll!" Sam added, as he was pulled into the infirmary that was also their bedroom. "Did everyone just forget that Colm wants us all dead?! They're probably out there, trying to snatch Arthur up again, and we're just sitting here! I have to-"
"SAM!" Lily raised her voice and forced him to sit down on his cot. "You're freaking out again and there's not even a storm right now."
It was then Sam realized his breathing was getting fast. He looked out the window, briefly, and then back at his cousin.
"There's no storm clouds tonight, Sam," said Lily.
"B-But" Sam stuttered, his form still shaking.
"Arthur goes out like this all the time. You're gonna smother him with your need to protect him."
"I promised him!" Sam spat out, leaning forward.
"And you did," Lily said, pushing him back. "Now you just need to have a little faith. He's not a little boy like Jack. He's a grown man."
"Yeah, so stop acting like a woman, Samuel," said a voice from outside.
Lily snapped her head towards the window. "Shut the hell up Micah!" She turned back to Sam. Her hands hadn't moved from his shoulders. "He's not going to leave you and neither am I."
Sam had his hands on the frame of his cot. As much as he wanted to get up, leave and find Arthur, Lily wouldn't let him. Sure, he could probably push past her, despite the months they've spent getting stronger, but Lily also had a point.
Lily pushed the thoughts away by leaning forward and pulling Sam into her arms.
"I know it's hard for you to believe and trust in that," she said, "but you have to."
Sam sniffled. He raised his arms and hugged her back.
"I just…" he stuttered.
"I know…" Lily spoke, gently.
"I love him…"
"I know…"
They stayed where they were for about a minute. Sam was still shaky and fidgety, but it didn't feel like he was just going to blindly take off, anymore.
Lily smiled after a while. "You want some tea?"
Sam nodded into her shoulder.
Lily felt lucky. Hosea taught her how to make his special tea. After he gave it to Sam, it wasn't long before he was having trouble keeping his eyes open as he looked out the window. Lily was in the sitting room, shortly, and tugged Sam away. She dragged him back to his cot in the infirmary and sat him down. He was too tired to fight back as she helped him change into his union suit. His eyes were closed by the time his head hit the pillow. Lily pulled a blanket over him, before going to bed herself.
"Where were you?"
Lily woke up and saw light entering through the gaps in the boarded up windows. It was probably early morning. She didn't move, but knew it was Sam's sleepy voice who said that.
"Just looking around. You know how it is." It sounded like Arthur, who was trying to keep his voice down. Lily smiled. She knew he was fine.
"What did you find?" Sam asked, softly.
"Ever see a man-eating lion?"
Sam laughed. "No you didn't."
"Can you explain this, then?"
There was some shuffling. "Oh, God! You're kidding!" Sam quietly, exclaimed. "The fur is rough. Does that paw make it lucky?"
Arthur laughed. "I hope so."
Sam sighed. "Well, Lily was right."
Lily grinned to herself.
"About what?" said Arthur.
"Don't worry about it…" There was the sound of more shuffling and soon Lily heard lips smacking together. "Missed you…"
"I know… but you didn't need to worry."
Lily quietly curled up as Arthur chuckled. She could hear their clothes rustling, and tried not to tear up. She had no reason to. He threw her out and shunned her like his mother, but still…
She missed him…
"You hesitate."
Sam and Kieran were out by the back of Shady Belle the next afternoon. Reading lessons were done for today, but there was still more teaching to be done. Lenny was even getting on it.
Kieran sighed as he lowered his gun.
"S-So what?" he said. "I drew it, right?"
"He's right," Lenny said, pushing himself off of a tree he was leaning against. "Hesitation can spell certain death."
Kieran sighed. "Well, that's certainly something I'd like to avoid."
Sam sighed. He pulled out his own gun for a moment, remembering the pistol he handed over to Beau. He hoped the odd couple made it to Boston. "It's okay. I wasn't perfect at first, either." The young man shrugged and holstered his weapon. "Still don't think so, either."
"W-Well, I don't… really take pleasure in.."
"I know," said Sam. "You only do it, when you have to."
"Yeah," said Kieran. "It don't keep Bill and Sadie from whispering in my ear about how they're gonna kill me."
Lenny laughed. "Don't worry, O'Driscoll. Bill won't hurt ya… Well, Sadie might."
"Alright, Lenny," Sam said, holding out his hand. "We've only been at this for today. Proficiency takes time." He turned back to Kieran. "Now, try it again."
Kieran holstered his weapon. Sam walked around the ex-O'Driscoll and stood behind him.
"Okay…" said Sam. Lenny leaned against the tree again. "Don't let the adrenaline get to you. Not everyone kills for sport. Just remember why you're out here."
"Because I was tied up, starved and now if I leave I'm dead meat for the O'Driscolls," Kieran answered.
"Okay, well…" Sam sighed. "I meant why you want to get stronger and defend yourself… smartass."
Kieran laughed a little. "Okay, okay…"
Finally, they were quiet. Kieran stared ahead. Perhaps he was picturing his enemy. Maybe he was thinking about how he ended up where he was.
Still, he drew his weapon without fumbling and pointed it forward.
Sam raised his eyebrows. "Better. It's like when Milton came along. You knew what you were doing this time.
"You ever gonna talk about that, by the way?" Lenny said, as Kieran lowered his gun.
"I should've…" Sam grumbled. "I found my uncle's killer…"
"Milton?" said Lenny.
"Yeah…"
"Oh, I'm sorry… I had no idea."
"Well…" Sam just shrugged. "Well, all I can do now is…"
Sam paused, as he turned his head away from them. For when he did, he saw the small fishing house that was near Shady Belle by the swamp. Arthur was there on the house's deck. He was trying to walk away, but Strauss was still talking to him, which made him turn around.
Sam growled. "Excuse me for a moment, gentlemen."
Sam marched himself towards the house. He slowed down once he got close, putting his back against the wall, but knowing that Arthur and Strauss were around the corner. He also found a letter to Micah, of all people, sitting on a crate.
"So, Mr. Morgan… will you help me finalize our business here?"
"This is filthy work," Arthur grumbled.
"We'll need money in Australia. For cattle and feed, I mean. Why flinch now? You never have before."
"Well, maybe I don't very much like it when Sam gets claws dug right into his back!"
"I am sending you on the job, Mr. Morgan. Not him. He chose to come with you, did he not? Didn't you take a bullet to the shoulder? What is the problem here?"
Sam finally had enough. He growled and turned the corner.
"The problem is, he got that trying to escape from Colm's men," Sam said, sternly. "I got clawed for getting money from a dead man, just because he owed you money!"
Arthur looked over at Sam. He was kind of relieved, but his presence at this very moment was kind of embarrassing.
"God, do you even give a shit that a man died over his debt?" said Sam.
"This is legal work, Mr. Hawkeson," Strauss raised his voice. "Isn't that a much needed thing after all of the trouble we've been through?"
Arthur sighed. "Fine. Let's just get this over with…"
Sam dropped his jaw. "Arthur!"
"Well, here they are," Strauss replied, nonchalantly. Next to him, was his ledger that he looked upon. "Some fisherman by the name of Davison, Algie Davison. Living in a place called Catfish Jackson, near Scarlett Meadows. And… that's it. We're a union built on debt, you know."
"Okay," said Arthur. And with that, he walked away, grabbing Sam's arm and dragging him along.
Sam yanked himself out of Arthur's grasp once they were far away enough. "Why do you keep doing this?"
"We need the money, Sam," said Arthur.
Sam glared. "Not like that!"
"Since when was that an issue?"
"Since I joined up with this gang!" Sam snapped. "You guys ain't like Colm or the other gangs."
"We're still a gang, Sam," said Arthur. "And we need money. Stop acting like we're any better."
"No!" Sam insisted. "You're not Micah!"
"But we ain't any better, are we?" Arthur stated once more.
Sam crossed his arms and huffed. "Fine. When are we leaving?"
"We?"
"Still not letting you go by yourself. Who are we knocking out, shaking down, grave robbing or hurting?"
"After all that, you still want to accompany me?" said Arthur.
"After that cougar attack, that's even more reason to watch your back," said Sam.
"Fine… More like watch your back this time."
Sam elbowed Arthur in the side and all he did was laugh. "Shut up…"
While the gang had moved into a new area, they were still in Lemoyne. Catfish Jackson was far south from the Braithwaite property… or was what was left of the Braithwaite property. It was near the waters of the Lannahechee River and the Flat Iron Lake. Neither man wanted to be out there, but at least found some entertainment to distract them.
"'Thank-you for your letter'," Sam read. "'I suppose I am glad you ain't been hanged yet, but I am going to have to insist upon the fact that if I see you, won't be no one needs to hang you, as I will break your neck. It ain't that I don't love you'... Blah, blah, blah, something about daughters."
Arthur shook his head as they rode alongside the river. There were trees to their right and the water to their left. It was nice not to see it so swampy for once. Aurora was a good horse, so she knew to just follow the paths. Sam looked ahead for a bit and skimmed some more.
"Damn…" Arthur said, as Sam read on.
"Oh, uh… 'Do not attempt to approach me. Do not attempt to visit me. Do not claim you know me.' Blah, blah, blah… Uh… 'I was shocked to receive your letter. Do not write to me again. Your brother, Amos Bell'."
"Didn't know that bastard had a brother," said Arthur.
"And he also wants nothing to do with him," Sam replied. He crumpled the letter in his hand and tossed it away, before grabbing Aurora's reins with both hands.
Arthur looked up ahead and saw the homestead. "Well, if we get outta here, we can hopefully get rid of some people we don't want nothing to do with, too. Come on."
Arthur and Sam stopped their steeds and hid them in the trees. They were on foot for the rest of the way.
Meanwhile, a man with dirty clothes and a dark complexion was out by the water, half asleep against a log, with a bottle in his hand. Somehow, despite the drink clouding his mind, he heard footsteps crunching against the dirt, sticks and the fallen dried up leaves. He raised his heavy head, and saw Sam walking towards him.
"Excuse me, mister," Sam said, meekly. His steps were slow and small as he approached him.
"Hey!" the man shouted. Sam flinched, his frame shaking at the shout. "You better have a damn good reason for being on my property, mister."
Finally, Sam rolled his eyes and dropped the act. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of strong alcohol.
"Well, I heard you owe someone some money," Sam said, hands on his hips. "You can give it to me, and I'll be on my way."
"You? What the hell is some damn shrimp like you gonna do if I don't?"
"A lot of things," Sam responded, "but, uh… he can probably do it in a way that's a lot more entertaining." He tilted his head to the side, momentarily and then Arthur came up to them from that direction.
"Remember that loan you took Mr. Davison? Well, time's long since up," Arthur boomed, his voice making the drunkard sit up. "We're here to collect."
Finally, the fool struggled to stand, his form swaying as he did.
"Ah, I shoulda known. You goddamn bludgeon men… Sure, sure, I got your money. Every stinkin' cent. It's in the house." He started walking towards it, so Sam and Arthur followed him. "Hell, I'll even give you both a drink. We can toast to never laying eyes on each other again."
The house wasn't far. It looked like it had seen better days, though. The upkeep didn't seem to be priority number one. The red paint was peeling off the walls and roof. The same went for the nearby shed. Weeds were growing and the porch looked like it had never been swept. The door opened with a heavy creak before they stepped inside.
"Back so soon, Pa?" A voice called.
"Someone's here, boy," Davison spoke back.
The inside wasn't much better. There was dirt and debris everywhere along with pieces of glass. In fact, the smell of alcohol was stronger inside. Sam almost tripped over one of the many bottles lying around. The wallpaper and wooden boards were peeling off the walls.
"Pa? Wait, what's going on?"
A young man was in the kitchen. He stood up as they entered.
"Don't just stand there," Algie said, his voice slurring, "go fix us a drink."
The boy turned to the cabinet. "Another one, Pa?"
"Don't give me no talk, boy, just do it!" Algie snapped. He walked over to the sink and knelt down to open the compartment at the bottom. "I'll look down here for our savings."
"Savings?" Arthur questioned. "Under the sink?"
"Best place for 'em. Now where's them drinks, boy?"
"Drinks ready," said the boy. He set two mugs on the table. "Right here, sirs."
Sam looked over to Arthur. He looked back at him and shrugged. The younger of the two approached the table.
"Thanks, I guess," said Sam.
Arthur walked up, as well, but just as he did, he saw something metal and shiny move from the corner of one of his eyes. He turned back just in time to see Algie with a knife. Sam ran in and grabbed the man's wrist before he could bring it down on anyone, before kneeing him in the gut and pushing him against the wall, making him slump down. Sam managed to take the knife away as he did. Algie's son ran off to his room, frightened.
"Jesus…" Sam said, tossing the knife away.
"You alright?" said Arthur.
Sam nodded. "I think so."
Then, there was a shout. All Sam could see when he turned towards the source of the noise was a bottle. Then Arthur threw an arm in front of him as the bottle struck, shattering to pieces.
Arthur cried out, but proceeded to grab Algie and slam his head in the doorway. Finally, the drunk fell onto the ground, motionless.
"A-Arth-" Sam ran to him as soon as he saw blood dripping from his arm. However, Arthur pushed him away when he got near.
"Help me when we get the damn money," Arthur growled. Sam flinched away, like he just saw a tiger, and just stormed out of the kitchen, leaving Arthur to pick the shards of glass from his arm, alone.
Sam entered one of the bedrooms. It was about as filthy as the other rooms. He searched the drawers, the wardrobe, and the night stand, but only found some cigarettes and some opened pistol cartridges. However, he did find something of note: A letter on a small end table.
Dearest Nate,
I don't know how many letters I've written now but I won't stop trying. Even the act of writing feels like some connection to you which is certainly better than none. I can understand how hurt and angry you must be for walking out on you like I did but I promise that I love you with all my heart. I just couldn't take it a day longer.
You know your father's temper, especially when he was drinking, which was all the time at the end. I've found work and am renting a small house. Just give me the word and I will send for you. We can both start again.
Love always,
Momma
Sam lowered the letter from his view, but kept it in his hand. He had to find that boy.
Arthur took the drinks from the table, but instead of drinking them, he poured them on his cut up arm and used some rags from under the sink. Unsurprisingly, there wasn't any money in there. He then walked into the other room close to the entrance of the house. It was another bedroom and he found Nate hiding under the bed.
"I don't want another beating!" Nate pleaded.
Arthur sighed. "Son, I want to get out of here. But I can't until I find some money."
"There's… some in my foot locker… I been keeping away from him," the boy stuttered.
"Ain't that lucky?"
"Arthur, don't!"
Sam stormed into the room, letter in hand.
"He's saving that money to leave his father!"
"What?!" said Arthur.
"What?!" Nate spoke quietly from his place under the bed.
"I found this letter from your mother, son," said Sam.
"From Momma? I… didn't know she was writing me."
Sam scowled. That drunkard was probably keeping the letters away from him.
"Ain't no business of ours!" said Arthur. He walked over to the chest by the kid's bed.
"Arthur!" Sam spoke up.
"Why are you surprised? We do this all the time!" Arthur snapped back.
"Not. Like. This," Sam said, keeping his teeth held tight.
The two shared warning stares. It was like if anyone moved, they would get shot.
Arthur took a deep breath and opened the foot locker. "Stop acting like we're better than this, Sam."
Sam growled. "Fine." He set the letter down next to the boy, turned on the heel of his boot and stormed out of the room.
Sam didn't stop there. He left the hallway and the house and headed out to the trees. Aurora was waiting patiently for him. Sam gave Soliel a gentle pat, before mounting his steed and riding off. However, he didn't feel like heading back to camp, but it wasn't like he could go too far anywhere else. So, he decided to go to Saint Denis.
It wasn't that Sam thought he was any better, despite feeling that way months ago. Sam knew who they were. It didn't matter what he or Dutch said. Both he and Arthur knew that at the end of the day, but they had a code. It was quite similar to the one he had when he was just a thief.
Sam laughed as he thought about that to himself. Like father, like son…
A sigh left Sam and soon he found himself wandering the streets of the city mindlessly, as his brain wandered.
Why did he care so much about what happened to those debtors? Well, most of them were more or less destitute and a poor hunter died over it. They were just people trying to get by.
Sam gently touched his back, where the scar of the cougar's claws remained. He almost died over this.
Arthur almost died over this…
Still, Arthur was fine. But thinking about those debts and Arthur being the one collecting them gave Sam a chill that he couldn't quite place. And it happened, even before the cougar attack.
"STOP!"
"What are you-"
"Don't you fucking hurt him! I want you to step away from Mr. Downes, right now!"
"Sam, he owes us money!"
"And he ain't well! I'm not gonna let you beat up people who don't deserve it!"
"Put the gun down, Sam! You ain't gonna-"
Sam gasped. Aurora whined, standing on her back legs. There was a yell from a woman as Sam reached forward, grabbing onto the horn of his saddle.
"I-I'm sorry, miss!" Sam stuttered. "I wasn't-"
Sam paused. The woman looking up at him was adorned in black robes and a headdress. A nun. And it wasn't just any nun.
"A-Ah… It's you. S-Sister…"
The nun just laughed to herself. "Calderón, dear."
"Yeah…" Sam paused for a moment to get down from his horse, taking in his surroundings. He saw the church nearby. It was tall and grand. The roof tops ended at tall points and the windows were thin, but tall with white frames. There were flowers and trees growing around it. Sam didn't grow up religious, but he truly felt as if he was being stared down at right at this moment.
"Amazing, isn't it?" said the nun. "I was lost in this city many times before I found this building. It's where I became a nun."
"Yeah…" Sam cleared his throat, before turning his gaze back to her. "Anyway, I'm so sorry about that, Sister. If you didn't know any better, you'd probably think I'm trying to kill you."
"Please, do not think so dreadfully about that," said Calderón. "I believe something greater keeps bringing us together."
Sam shrugged. "Uh, I don't know if that's the case. Can I at least do something to make it up to you?"
The nun chuckled softly. "Do you read, kind sir?"
Sam nodded. "Of course. My uncle taught me?"
"Wonderful. I'm on my way to the old church on Gasper Street in St. Frances. Maybe you could help some people learn such a skill."
Sam rubbed the back of his head. Then he nodded. "Sure. I mean, I was gonna head to the bar, but I guess I could do this instead." He walked up to Aurora, realizing he was just openly honest about his intentions to a woman of God, but it didn't look like she cared that much. In fact, she was smiling. Sam took the reins. "May I offer you a ride, Sister?"
Sister Calderon nodded. "Thank-you so much!"
"You ain't like that, Arthur!"
"Yes, I am! Quit lying to yourself…"
"Oh, Arthur…"
Arthur sighed as his horse galloped into Saint Denis. This was just like before, though he didn't quite understand it this time. Sam knew who he was and what they did. He's been running with him and the gang for months now.
Still, it hurt when Sam just walked out with barely a word. Arthur cleared his throat and sighed as he kept going through the streets of Saint Denis to pick up Sam's trail. However, it was hard to follow Aurora's horse tracks once in the city, because the pavement went from dirt to stone.
Arthur checked the saloons. He didn't find Sam at the one they saw Rose in, but Saint Denis was bigger than Valentine and way bigger than Rhodes. There was bound to be more than one saloon in this town. So, he asked around and found out there were two other saloons of note. So he headed towards one of them that was near the marketplace.
"Help the poor… help the poor."
Just as Arthur got down from Soleil and hitched to the post, he saw a bearded man in dark robes. There was a small metal pan near him on the ground. Soon, he noticed Arthur and smiled.
"You, kind sir. Will you help the poor?" he asked.
"I ain't so kind," Arthur replied.
"Yes you are, sir," said the man. "You have it in you, I can tell."
Arthur shook his head. He gave Soleil a gentle pat before walking towards the man. "I'm a nasty bit of work, father."
"You're wrong on two counts, sir," the man placed a hand to himself. "I'm a humble Brother. A penitent monk, not a priest… and you're a magnificent bit of work. You may have made some… some poor choices… but which of us hasn't?"
Arthur sighed. He walked over to the wall beside the monk and placed his back against it. "You have no idea."
"But you do…" the monk responded, "and God does, and that's good enough for me… and him."
"We shall see."
"That we shall, sir… but don't you hedge your bets… and give two bits to the poor? There are many who will go hungry tonight."
Arthur pushed himself off from the wall. "Sure," he said. The outlaw reached into his pocket and placed some of the spare change he had to the pan.
"Bless you, sir," the monk spoke kindly.
"How you getting on anyhow?" Arthur asked.
"These are a somewhat apathetic lot I'm afraid," said the monk.
Arthur wasn't surprised one bit. Especially, considering this place of so-called civilization.
"My, umm… my mentor says that America is designed to induce apathy in people."
"That's a wonderful insight," said the monk. "He must be a wise man, your mentor."
Arthur laughed. "Well sometimes he's a downright fool but… usually, he's the best man I know."
"That's wonderful. The-The thing is I'm…" The monk frowned," well, poverty will always be with us…" He looked over the brick wall behind them. Arthur turned around and peeked over the wall, as well, seeing the market place, "but slavery, I-I thought we had banished that. But Saint Denis is acting as a staging post… for shipping slaves out to some of the islands."
Arthur furrowed his brows. "I don't believe you, it's 1899."
"Maybe you should take a look for yourself," said the monk. "I've heard that the pawnbroker down the block around the corner… the one with the green door… well they say he sells more than forlorn trinkets."
Well, it did sound serious. And if by some chance this was true, Arthur wouldn't be surprised. Still, he knew what it was like to be locked up and not know where you were, or what was going to happen.
Arthur adjusted his hat. Sam could wait a bit longer. "Alright, excuse me…" And he walked into the marketplace.
"It… It's… almays…"
"Always," Sam corrected. "You got the w upside down."
"Dang! 'It's always warm… in… summer.'"
Sam smiled. "See, there you go."
Sam found himself at the old church. He was on the front, sitting on the steps with some less fortunates, trying to teach them to read. It wasn't too different from teaching Jack or Kieran. Almost.
"I don't get it…" said another young man.
"Oh, you will," said Calderón. "It's like swimming, it takes time, but then it's easy… and the whole world opens to you."
"I hate this, it's too hard!"
Sam growled and turned his head towards the whining man. "Hey!" he said. "If you-"
"Now, now," said Calderón. "There's no need for that, Mr. Hawkeson. Just take your time. I'll be back in five minutes." She stood up from the porch and gestured for Sam to follow her. Together they went inside. The church was empty at the moment.
"Sorry," Sam said, as he approached the altar at the front of the pews. "My… students don't usually talk back like that. You have the patience of a saint, Sister."
"Well, I'm sure your uncle had the same patience with you," said the nun.
"It's easier when you're little, I noticed. My uncle was shoving books at me just as I was starting to walk and talk. My cousin, too."
"Was that who you were arguing with?"
Sam shook his head. "No, that would be Arthur. He's, uh… He's a very good friend of mine. We had a disagreement over some… financial differences."
"Arthur?" said the nun. "And that's why you were so spaced out?"
Sam giggled. "Y-Yes, I reckon that's so. He can be pretty stubborn and hard-headed, but…" Sam gazed up at the pulpit. It was a simple pulpit at the back of the church with a huge cross on the wall. "He is so very dedicated to our… family. He fights so hard for what he believes in without backing down."
The nun smiled. She could see the grin growing on Sam's face as he spoke more and more about this Arthur character.
I can't say he always makes the best decisions for his health and safety, but I know he puts others before himself," Sam continued. "He's still an enigma sometimes, but he's very strong." He started playing with his hands, running his finger over the scar hidden under his glove. "And when he knows what's at stake, his heart is usually good and true!"
"Well," the nun said. She held back a laugh, pretending as if she didn't see the pink tint forming on Sam's face, "you certainly speak highly of him. I have no doubt you'll be able to work out whatever troubles you have with him."
Sam took a deep breath. His heart was fluttering at what he just said. "I hope so, too."
"Hi there, mister. Feel free to browse."
"Shall do."
The monk was right. There was a green door and it led into a pawn shop. It didn't take long to find a bookshelf. There were drag marks on the floor near it. It was like it had been moved open multiple times, like a door.
"How about you open that door?" Arthur said, walking up to the clerk. The outlaw was glaring.
"Door?" said the clerk. "What door?"
"The hidden door," Arthur growled. "Or I'll open the hidden door in your chest!"
"They made me do it," the clerk then said, raising his hands, shakingly. "I was always good to them, but they-they forced me to do it, sir… I… swear. J-Just pull the big red book on the bookshelf."
Arthur kept his hand on his holster, and kept his eye on the clerk. He stepped into the back and found the shelf again. There was only one red book. It gave him some resistance when he pulled it and it made a metal rickety sound. The bookshelf moved forward slightly and Arthur was able to pull it open in the same direction the floor markings were.
"H-Hello?" Arthur heard as he gazed down to a dark stairwell.
"¡Shhh! ¡Callate, callate!"
Arthur held true to his determination. He didn't hear anyone following him and he looked over his shoulder multiple times. He pulled down a gulp as he proceeded deeper into the basement. The darkness, the smell, and everything else only reminded him of that gruesome night.
"How's the wound?"
"I hardly feel it."
"You will, septic it ain't nice."
A single lantern was illuminating the dark basement. There were a bunch of chains strung around and hanging from the walls and some of the beams near the roof.
"¿Hay alguien allí?"
Arthur got to the bottom of the basement and found two men chained to a wall. They looked like foreigners. They were also practically bone thin.
"¿Quien es?" one of them asked. "¡Por favor! ¡Ayúdanos! Help, please!"
That monk was right. There were people down here. Fortunately, this wasn't Arthur's first time undoing chains. He kept his movements slow and approached the captives with a lock pick.
"Now don't worry, I'm on your side," Arthur spoke, gently. "It's going to be okay." He undid the chains on both of the men and gestured for them to follow.
Once they were out of the basement, Arthur saw that the clerk had taken off. The cash register was left unattended. He grinned and ran up to it, as the two prisoners slowly made their way out of the basement.
The cash register had two whole stacks of cash and some change. However, he saw the two men follow closely, going up to the desk. Arthur reached into the register, took the cash out, split it and placed it on the counter.
"Here. Take that, and come with me," said Arthur. Each man didn't hesitate to take a share and put it in their pockets. "I know someone who can help you."
Arthur led the men to the door he came in from. The two men seemed taken back from the sunlight. Perhaps it had been a while.
"This way," Arthur said, leading them back through the market. "Not much farther." He looked forward to the entrance, hoping to meet up with that monk. "Poor bastards."
"¿Quien es está hombre?" said one of the men.
"No se," said the other man. "Estamos libres y eso es importante. Tenemos que confiar en él."
"Brother?" Arthur asked, as soon as he and the two prisoners made it out of the marketplace. The monk was still there.
"Brother Dorkins, friend," said the monk.
It occurred to Arthur at that moment that he didn't get his name. "Arthur. Arthur Morgan. You were right. I found these two men imprisoned in that shop."
"Oh my…" Brother Dorkins looked over the wall again, "that's… well, they are blessed to have met you, Arthur."
"Trust me, in that they're very unusual," said Arthur. "I don't think they speak much English."
"W-Well, thank-you." Dorkins turned to the foreigners. "Come. Let's get you two something to eat. Comida." The prisoners seemed to get it after he said that. He picked up the tin with the change inside. "Here, sir. I know it isn't much, but… payment for your services. I could not have freed these men myself."
Honestly, Arthur was just glad to be out of that basement without much of a hitch. Besides, Arthur already had something of a nagging feeling after what happened at Catfish Jackson.
"Give it to the poor, Brother," said Arthur.
With that, the monk took the tin back. "Thank-you, I will. I hope I can repay your kindness someday."
"Well, I was looking for a friend before I got here. Have you seen him? Dark hair, ponytail, gray eyes, and was wearing a blue coat."
Brother Dorkins beamed. "Oh, he was with a friend of my own. They were heading towards the old church on Gasper Street in St. Frances. Ask for Sister Calderón. She can help you."
Arthur nodded. "Thanks, partner." He stayed where he was until Dorkins and the now freed men were out of sight.
A church? Arthur thought. What the hell would Sam be doing there?
The church wasn't far from where Arthur met Brother Dorkins. Even so, he still made his way there on foot. It wasn't that he didn't want to see Sam, he just didn't know what to say: "Sorry for doing work for the gang"?
He didn't want Sam to think otherwise. He thought Sam knew who he was. Arthur feared hurting him over this, just like her… or she hurt him. It was a lot of back and forth in the end.
Still, Arthur wasn't one to just run from issues that probably wouldn't end with a bullet or a noose. He continued onwards ready to face Sam and whatever happened next. The sun was setting. Arthur didn't want to worry about where Sam was when it was dark and harder to find him.
"Why the hell would you do that?"
"I was just… protecting you."
"You offered to help me, and other people."
"...you're so willing to fight and die for this gang. You work so hard for the two men who raised you."
"It's because of you I wanted to be braver… stronger…"
"I wanted to protect you, Arthur. To do anything near you, really."
"I… I can't say that I understand you… but I hope to… someday."
Arthur smiled after a bit, calming down after thinking of all the things Sam had said to him. It was odd. He was never really one to think about good things, unless he was writing in his journal, which was mostly nonsense, in his opinion. What on Earth put him in such a good mood?
His ears caught wind of chatter and the outlaw found Sam sitting with Sister Calderón on the steps of the church. A few people were sitting around, reading, or at least trying to.
"Arthur?" Sam was the first to notice Arthur approaching. He stood up immediately from where he was sitting and stepped down from the porch. "How did you-"
"Find you?" Arthur shrugged. "It ain't hard for someone like me."
Sam smiled, struggling not to laugh. "I guess not." He turned back to the nun who stood up to catch up with him. "Oh, uh. This is Sister Calderón. I kept running into her, so she helped me make up for my stupidity."
Sister Calderón showed no hesitation in rushing out to meet Arthur. "So you're the man Sam spoke highly of." She reached out and shook his hand.
Arthur looked at Sam, his mouth slightly open. Highly? After what happened earlier?
"Well, it's probably nonsense," Arthur answered.
Sam rolled his eyes. Just then, one of the younger readers pushed past them, holding some kind of cross in his hand.
"HEY!" Sam shouted.
"Damn it!" Arthur yelled. He immediately raced after the kid.
"Don't hurt him, please!" the nun pleaded.
Arthur raced down the street after the kid, but he was fast. However, it looked like the poor nun was not his first victim.
"Get off me!"
"Where's my watch, you little weasel?"
"I don't know nothing about no damn watch!"
Arthur ran up and saw a man pinning the young thief against the wall of a building.
"Last Saturday, I saw you steal it with my own eyes!"
"Hey you," Arthur said, sternly, "why don't you leave the boy alone?"
"What's it to do with you?" the man growled.
"I can hit a lot harder than you, I promise you that."
The man huffed. He let the kid go, but not without a little shove and backed away.
"Alright, forget it, little shit ain't even worth my time." And with that, he stormed off.
"Thanks, mister," the thief said, before scampering off, as well.
Arthur sighed. He saw the cross on the ground and gently picked it up. Why the kid decided to take it was still beyond him. Seemed like normal metal or to stone to him. Still, the handwork was kind of admirable for a religious trinket.
"Hey…" said the voice of a woman, "you want some company, mister?"
"No," Arthur muttered, as he continued walking, his focus entirely on the cross.
"You sure?"
Arthur looked up to decline once again. The woman was standing on steps, leaning against a wall at the entrance of an alleyway. Her white shirt and black skirt was covered in dirt and grime. She had curly, loose hair that looked tangled and unkempt.
Arthur stared for a moment. She looked familiar.
"Don't you fucking hurt him! I want you to step away from Mr. Downes, right now."
"Thomas!"
"Hey…" said Arthur.
"What?" said the woman.
"I know you."
The woman stepped back as Arthur approached. She did look familiar.
"Mrs. Downes?" Arthur realized.
And it seemed that she recognized him, too. However, as Arthur tried to approach her, she turned pale and stepped away.
"Oh no," Edith's voice quivered. "Not you. Get away!"
"How, I mean…" Arthur was trying to form words and ask questions. Did this woman, of all people, just ask what he thought she just did?
"Now," Edith said, desperately.
"Hey…"
"Help!" Mrs. Downes looked around and ran towards the nearest man in a blue uniform. "Help!"
"Hold on!" Arthur called.
"This man is bothering me!" Edith yelled. "Someone help!"
Before the officer could look in the direction Edith came from, Arthur had already vanished into the nearest alley.
This wasn't Arthur's first time running from the local police. The many alleyways in this damn city were probably one of the only good things Arthur found about it. He was able to lose the heat on him pretty quickly.
Eventually, he made his way back to the church. Sam and Sister Calderón were waiting patiently for him. It also looked like their "students" had departed.
"Mr. Morgan!" the nun exclaimed.
Arthur sighed, his breath still heavy. "Sister." He reached into his satchel and got out the crucifix. "I got you your cross." He tried not to look at Sam who was absolutely beaming.
"You didn't!" Calderón was overjoyed to see the crucifix again, taking it back into her possession.
"No, I did," said Arthur.
"I hope the boy…"
"He's fine…" Arthur said, waving off the nun's concern, "physically…"
"It seems Mr. Hawkeson was right about you." Calderón smiled, warmly. Sam gasped and opened his mouth, but the woman just kept talking. "You are good and true."
"Well, my friend here is…" Arthur sighed as the nun approached him with her arms out. He allowed the hug, though, "greatly mistaken, but… I'm happy to help a little."
"Thank-you," Calderón said, as she stepped away, "you see it's a thing, but… my mother gave it to me when I was a novice… shortly before she passed. You are the most wonderful man."
Arthur reached for Sam's arm and pulled him to his side. "Well, you'll have to excuse us, Sister. We need to get home."
Sam dusted himself off and nodded. "Yeah, he's right. See you around."
"Of course," said Calderón. "You two are welcome here and at the cathedral anytime."
Sam and Arthur waved goodbye before walking off to find Soleil. Aurora was hitched up near the old church, but Sam decided to walk with Arthur to his horse, who was down the street where he met Brother Dorkins.
"She ain't far," said Arthur. Despite everything, he was relieved that Sam was safe and hadn't gone and done anything stupid. Sam would look at Arthur occasionally, clearly still embarrassed about Sister Calderón revealing his testimony of what he thought about Arthur.
Eventually, Sam couldn't take the silence anymore.
"I'm sorry…"
Arthur stopped in his tracks. Sam did, too. "Sam-"
"Your arm!" Sam then exclaimed.
Arthur cleared his throat and checked his right arm. The makeshift bandages he threw together had a red stain on it. One of his wounds must have reopened while he was running around.
Sam checked out Arthur's arm, being careful and gentle, despite his urgency. Then he sighed.
"I'm so stupid…" Sam muttered. "I'm so sorry. I know who we are, but I ran anyway!"
Arthur shook his head. "Nah. You were right…"
"Huh?"
"Strauss's job," Arthur said, taking his arm back. "They revolt me."
"Then… why?"
"I ain't good for much else, Sam. And, it gives us money. We need it."
Sam scoffed. "Come on, Arthur! I've read our ledger. You bring in more money than the others back at camp. I never saw Strauss's name in there once! You can hunt, carry a knife, and use a gun! What has Strauss done other than write in that stupid book of his?"
Arthur shrugged. "It's legal."
"That doesn't make it right."
"Like that matters to people like us…"
Sam crossed his arms. "Well, I know it does to you…"
God, Arthur hated when Sam would look at them with those shiny eyes of his. He knew he was getting his point across, that cocky little shit.
"Well…" Arthur flexed his injured arm. It didn't hurt that much anymore, but there was still a persistent sting. "I'm sorry, too."
"Eh…" Sam said, finally smiling at him after holding out his hands and shrugging. "That drunken bastard looked like he needed a walloping, anyway."
And finally, Arthur chuckled back. He looked up as they continued their walk to Soleil and saw the sky turning dark.
"You know what?" said Arthur. "Forget the camp tonight. Let's just rent a room at the hotel."
Sam hummed to himself as they walked, folding his arms behind his head. "Sounds like a plan, Mr. Morgan. I'll take a look at your arm when we're there."
Arthur finally felt a knot in his stomach disappear. They worked through it. That was way better than the last relationship he had. He was sure that it was a true relationship, as well.
They were okay.
Except…
"Mrs. Downes?"
"Oh no. Not you. Get away!"
"Yeah…" Arthur said, letting out an exhale. They finally approached Soleil, who was waiting patiently for her master. "Sam."
Sam had turned to Aurora and was getting ready to mount up. He looked towards him, hands still on his steed's saddle.
"When we get to the hotel," said Arthur, "there's something I think you should know…"