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Chapter 34

Sadie Adler ain't know what to think 'bout Arthur Morgan on most days.

Sometimes, it felt like he ain't belong here. It was hard to believe someone gentle as him was in any sort of Outlaw's gang. The gunslinger was far more soft than anyone would have thought. However, that wasn't always a case as he would scold other members. It was a reminder of how one with such a gentle voice couldn't be underestimated. He was both compassionate and firm.

Just like...

Damn, she'd missed her husband.

She really did.

But he wasn't coming back.

No matter what she did, Jake was gone. Gone. Gone. GONE!

Sadie ain't have a reason to stay after the gang had downed Colm O'Driscoll and his cronies, but she did. Oh, she did. It was due to the comforting of the women and Arthur that she was uplifted slightly to be even the semblance of an happy woman she used to be.

Her feelings, the same ones she'd held for Jake, were suddenly centered around the gunslinger. Sometimes, she missed owning a ranch, being with a happy husband in a small world that ain't give a shit. Other times, she felt like she had gotten over the pain. It ain't make sense. Both these conflicting feelings and the fact that she was already longing for another man after his passing.

For the first few months after her husband died, she was in a complete fog. Then she began to wake up and slowly came back to life again. She noticed the happiness that surrounded the camp with the others: John and Abigail, Sean and Karen, Kieran and Mary-Beth. They were supportive and wonderful, but it was just difficult to be alienated; the tag-along like Grimshaw.

She realized she missed having a man to be with, but she knew it was not her choice. Another man might be interested in her eventually, and she would have to force herself to get over it. Women ain't have a high role in society. They were meant to follow behind men and be good wives, regardless of their protests.

However, she was different from most women.

Many men she'd crossed slapped her across the face and dismissed her cause she ain't ever let go of what she'd believed in.

That was until Jake came along. He'd welcomed her independence, enjoyed it even, and allowed her to continue to speak up before and after their wedding. That was one of the reasons why she loved him so dearly. He cared 'bout her, never raised his hand against her, and was the light in her life. When dimmed...

She numbly lifted her head, finding Kieran and Mary-Beth staring at each other. They were officially not a couple yet, but they most certainly communicated like one. The two cared for each other to an extreme degree, and it made her long for that affection again.

"Mrs. Adler," Pearson, the camp cook, said, snapping her out of her thoughts. "I need your help."

Sadie nodded. She knew it wasn't fair. She could have ended up with worse than the O'Driscolls. Some part of her felt pity for Kieran, not even wanting to know what those damned savages put him through.

Still, it didn't stop a scowl stretching across her face. After the latest attack, the widow knew she couldn't complain. But doing the same routine all day for the past five to six weeks was beginning to grate on her impatience. As she chopped the vegetables, she forced a smile at the cook and told him she was done. He nodded in satisfaction and gathered them up and took them to who knows where.

Finally, she decided to approach Arthur. The man was sitting down next to the edge of a cliff and marking in that journal.

"Hi, Arthur," she said.

"Mrs. Adler," Arthur replied, looking up briefly to acknowledge her, "how can I help you?"

She thought 'bout how she should approach this before she declared. "My husband and I shared the work, all of it." Her face hardened. "I don't feel like chopping vegetables for a living." Arthur nodded once with a small twitch of the lips. "I was out on the fields, carrying a knife, and using a gun."

"Let me guess," Arthur replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm, "you want to go into the land of men."

Sadie rolled her eyes, the response dry: "One day, women would be free to walk among the land too." She'd hoped she would be around to see it.

Arthur said so quietly that she almost didn't hear him, "I hope so."

That was another thing. Unlike many men in society, Arthur had never seen another man and woman as anything to be treated differently. No matter their race, given his bond with Lenny, or their gender, like with her, he just saw them as one in the same.

Hopefully, men all over the world would be like him one day.

Arthur moved up to the camp cook...

"Hey, Pearson, the lady decided to find herself among the lands of men. Got anything you want me to pick up on this endeavor?" Arthur said to the camp cook, standing next to the pot, no doubt planning to feed the repetitive dinner he had been doing for the past weeks.

Swanson shot out of the nearby seat, "She have defiled us! She have defiled us, Arthur Morgan! I'm telling ya!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Reverend," Arthur said. He looked at Pearson. "Why are you allowing him around the food, Pearson?"

"Grimshaw told me to keep an eye on him. Apparently, I'm a babysitter now, and he's a good cooking... advisor," Simon remarked sarcastically.

Pearson moved away from the giant pot and picked up his signature white paper. "Yeah, on this list." He handed it over.

"Come on, let's go."

Just before approaching the Walker, she was tempted to tap the horse's neck. She reminded herself that it belonged to an O'Driscoll, and disgust rose in her throat again. She was disgusted with the impulse. It was an animal, one arguably innocent. It was probably picked up at some stable or something those damn savages raided. It wasn't fair to be judgmental over an animal.

That ain't what Jake would have wanted.

Walking past it, she took the offered hand of the gunslinger who already swung on top of the horse. Arthur'd pulled on the reins, and the horse neighed obediently, before taking off in the direction of the town. Rhodes, they called it.

The ride was by no means a quick one, but it ain't mean that Sadie didn't enjoy it.

Even after they arrived in town, Arthur slowed the ride, allowing himself to observe the town. She'd sworn his form stiffened, and felt his body tightening. It was as if he was reliving a past, terrible experience.

"Arthur," she said, worry in her tone. "Arthur?" She tried again, a little bit louder this time.

That did the trick. Arthur looked down at her, his eyes void for a moment, sending fear down her spine.

"Are you alr-"

"Yes." His eyes landed on the General Store. He got off the horse and hitched it to the nearest pole, before helping her...

They'd noticed a couple was talking in aggravated tones nearby but nothing happened. The woman looked afraid, her fists tight. But that was all they'd saw as they entered the store.

Sadie frowned, watching him, even as she'd chosen the items. Arthur had many deep and personal issues that made her worried 'bout him, suffice to say. It ain't a good thing to see such a kind man who tried to help others often not talk 'bout his problems. He'd decided the cook's supplies as well.

As they were walking out, they found the man now yelling at a woman, pointing his finger. "You filthy whore!" he growled, making her grimace. "I have better things to do than be trapped with you!"

She looked far too nervous. "I thought you would b-"

"Well, I ain't," he hissed, pointing his index finger at her face, making her recoil.

"Hey," Arthur finally interjected, his eyes filling with rage. "You goddamn animal, why don't you point that finger at someone your own size?"

The man's eyes locked onto his, ire still in them. "Ah, so you wanna play hero? Do you know who I am? My name is Timmy Vercetti."

Oh, he was one of those guys.

Arthur scoffed. "Am I supposed to be afraid of you?"

Anger rising, Vercetti swung his fist at Arthur's direction. With ease, the man caught his fist and twisted it, causing him to yelp loudly, which eventually turned into a full-blown shout, before pressing his knee against his back.

"Stay away from her from now on." Arthur declared. "You don't want to make me angry."

Vercetti glared at him for a moment before disappearing.

His demeanor softened towards the woman who was still staring after the man who had just run away. "Hey," Arthur collected a few dollars from his satchel and held them in front of the woman, "this should be enough to help you, right?"

"I want to be wi-" she began, looking down at the money with hesitation.

Arthur sighed, "You can't chase after someone who doesn't love you, sweetheart. He ain't gonna be brought. If he'd wanted to be there, he would be already. Don't go and get yourself killed cause of loyalty."

The woman looked conflicted before the expression faded slowly, and she finally took the cash offered to her, nodding in appreciation. "Thank you. You're a good man..."

Arthur tipped his hat once and moved back to the Walker.

"Are you alright?" She eventually had to ask.

"Yes," he answered.

Sadie's face screwed in agitation. "Arthur..."

Something in him snapped. "I said, I'm fine, woman," he growled. "You ain't have to keep trying to make me talk. Let's just get what we need and go back."

Sadie didn't grow angry. "You should talk to Hosea 'bout what's troubling you, Arthur, you are doing it again."

"Doing what?" he asked sharply.

"Keeping them emotions bottled up inside of you and pushing away everyone who's trying to help ya. I've seen folks do that and it never ends well."

Arthur huffed, "Why do you care so much?"

"Cause..."

"Cause what?" His tone became harsher.

"Cause..." Sadie wrapped her arms around him, the urge too tempting. "Cause you're too good to be like this all the time, Arthur. For once, let someone help you."

Arthur stiffened, his eyes wide. "I... I can't. You can't help me, Sadie."

She thought 'bout it for a moment before she decided to press further, "Does it have something to do with Micah and Dutch? I'm not blind, Arthur, they have been staring at you a lot recently."

Arthur broke away from her, "...No, it doesn't." A lie...

Sadie was suddenly filled with the determination to do something. Anything.

She won't let Arthur do this alone.

But how could she help was the question when he didn't want to answer.

That was what she'd been wondering 'till they got back to the camp.

John Marston could admit he ain't been this happy in a long time.

It was only due to Arthur Morgan that he had this much to be happy 'bout. When John allowed reality to set in, all that came was shame and guilt over how he'd treated not only Abigail but also little Jack. He'd made him feel worthless and caused the same pain people he cared 'bout onto the kid.

Less and less, John had even thought 'bout going back to the tent and decided to stay near Abigail 'till they were old together. That talk was something that needed to be done.

"Pa, I got someone to show you," the little boy's voice broke him out of his thoughts, full of happiness and excitement.

Unsure how to respond to that, John's face flushed momentarily. It didn't make sense. How could he, usually a man of many words like Dutch, be stunned by this little boy?

John asked curtly, "What is it, boy?"

Before he knew it, his son kidnapped him.

"Look, Pa," Jack said, halfway dragging the taller man 'till he motioned to the dog. "It's a new dog. A new dog!"

John looked up at the black mutt.

"His name's Cain!"

Truth be told, John, like Arthur and even Bill, had always loved animals; be it dogs, cats, or horses. Animals were more loyal than people-an unfortunate truth that John learned when he was away for a year.

Animals ain't deserve to be part of this world, for folks like 'em didn't deserve them. No amount of good, honorable folks, would be able to live up to the loyalty of animals.

John whistled, and the dog came slowly, allowing Jack to laugh and pet him. He followed likewise, feeling his black fur and sighing with happiness, which the dog obviously took notice of and began to lick.

John spat, trying to push him off, but the dog ain't giving up easily. "Alright, alright, boy." When he finally got him off, he looked at his beaming son, ad his heart melted. "Well, Jackie, do you want a dog?" He asked, smiling somewhat. Damn, he was going to have to wash that feeling of spit from him afterwards.

It ain't like Grimshaw was never willing to help whenever any of them came home, smelling.

"Yes!" The boy practically leapt.

"Okay, then, go find Hosea and he'll tell Dutch." John'd imagined that was how things would be going from now on with Dutch's moody attitude as of late.

"Yay!" Jack ran off.

He noticed Javier and Bill playing five-card draw from afar. The latter groaned 'bout his coming defeat while Javier laughed with condescension and boasted to his face 'bout his victory.

John rolled his eyes and decided to leave the scene, walking around the camp. Finally, his leg didn't felt as stiff and his scars were not as agonizing anymore.

Someone disturbed his servitude again. "He-hey, John."

He looked to the source of the voice and found Molly moving up to him.

"Hi, Ms. O'Shea," he nodded, 'bout to continue walking when her voice stopped him.

Molly looked down at her nails, terrified, when she responded. "May I have a quick word?"

"Yes, Ms. O'Shea?" John asked.

"Ah, call me Molly would ya?" She declared.

"Sure, Molly." John gripped her outstretched hand and helped her up.

"John, how is Dutch? I mean, how does he seem to you?"

"'Bout the same as usual, I guess," John shrugged, knowing that wasn't exactly true. He ain't wanted to admit it, but John was scared of what was happening between Arthur and Dutch. Worse, he couldn't stand behind the latter this time when most of Morgan's points were actually true.

"I... I really love him, you know... but if he... Like he always says, loyalty is everything, so..." She sighed. "I... I'm gonna be honest, John, I think folks are driving him crazy."

John looked at her for a long moment. She took his silence as an expectation of denial.

"I mean... well, you see, I notice that he spends more time around Micah since Arthur's change."

"Arthur's got a mind of his own," John still felt the impulse to defend his older brother as he used to. "Dutch ain't always right, Molly."

"He ain't exactly been reasonable with Dutch either, John. And well..." Her eyes now sparked with anger before it receded again, "I'm..."

"Worried?" John finished. Dutch had welcomed him back with open arms when he'd come back that year he was gone. He'd expected he would have to deal with Dutch's lashings and speeches 'bout why traitors ain't part of the gang and offered his own counterarguments, but that wasn't to be.

Even so, since then, things ain't been the same between the two, but John still respected and loved the man 'till Blackwater when doubts started settling in for his insanity.

"Well, yes," she confirmed with a nod. "He doesn't even listen to me as much..."

Damn it... John felt some pity for the woman. He knew that she'd cared 'bout Dutch obsessively and wanted to serve his every need. Yet, John'd only seen her as a replacement for Annabelle. She was ostracized by the gang cause of her upper-class history, and damn, this might be something he needed to bring up to Morgan later.

Perhaps it was what Morgan said a while ago, but John felt a sudden burst of determination. He'd seen people get driven crazy before, and Molly could be yet another one.

"Molly, you were manipulated into leaving behind your family," he said, placing his hands on her shoulders, wanting to word this carefully. "But you gotta know that money ain't going to buy his love for ya. You have to find someone who appreciates ya. Dutch, at the end of the day, is the gang's leader."

"What am I supposed to do, John? Leave?" She slumped her shoulders. "I don't have anywhere to go."

John sighed, growing tired of this discussion. Damn Morgan for not being here when the woman needed him the most. Hosea was also available, but Arthur seemed to be more vocal against Dutch and his recent moves than the old coot somehow. John would have laughed once if he'd learned that would one day be the case.

"You don't need Dutch. There are other people in the gang. Befriend Abigail, Karen, or even Tilly. You ain't have to be alone, Molly."

"I... I need him. He needs me."

"He needs the gang. Us-the shooters. The women-lie, cheaters, robbers, murder. Also cleaning and maintain the camp and everyone's clothes. And you ain't that popular with the women here." Oh, Abigail bitched quite a few times 'bout her since she and John came back together.

Molly's eyes widened. "B-"

John sighed, "It's your choice. Do you ever want to leave and go somewhere else? Ask Morgan. I'm sure he knows folks. Or stay here and feel bad for yourself. It ain't gonna phase Dutch. He's got a gang to run."

He ain't like what he was telling her, but she needed to hear it... just like he'd needed Arthur to tell him what he'd needed to hear.

Goddamn it, since when did Morgan influence him so much?

Author's note: I love the Walker even more now in this game. I'm only in Chapter 2 at the time of writing this on my PS5 (since I just got the game two or three days ago) and I can't resist feeling attached to him. Yesterday, I was patting him, feeding him, and etc. I know this Walker is not as good as other horses but I instantly attached to him and couldn't keep the others around for long. He's my only horse at this time. Lol

There was a scene in the game with Molly trying to talk to Arthur about Dutch but Uncle interrupted. This time, she'd went to John and was able to talk to him because less events are occurring while others happen even faster.