"Guess who I found snoopin' around outside camp?" Bill Williamson half-pulled, half-dragged me to the center of the camp, finally releasing as all eyes bore on me. My heart felt like it was in my throat.
"Er... hi again." I awkwardly waved. Though I left on good terms with a lot of them, there was a sharper sense of caution and hostility in the air.
"Bet you she was sent as a spy for one of them families," Micah hissed into Dutch's ear, just barely audible to me. He then turned his body towards me, raising his voice: "After all, she's loyal to that church, ain't ya Ms. Monroe? I'd bet my left leg they get some fundin' from one of those Grays or Braithwaites."
"I-It's not like that, honest." I heard the tremble in my own voice. "I was... look." I sighed lightly grabbed the satchel that hung at my side. "I have some business to take care of with someone 'round here. Besides, you ain't exactly hidin' yourselves in town." Trying to defend too much myself felt like a risky move, but all things considered, they had quite literally deputized themselves -- could they blame me for noticing?
"It's alright, Dutch." Hosea, the friendly and wise old man who had treated me kindly when I first arrived, walked up and put a hand on his shoulder. "Ms. Monroe is right. We've already made names for ourselves 'round the townspeople, and people talk."
"I suppose you're right." Dutch's narrowed eyes slightly softened. By now, anyone who had been inside a tent or curled up on a bedroll had gotten up, slowly inching towards the throng. I could practically sense Arthur Morgan straightening himself off his bed, like a looming force in my peripheral vision.
"What business you mean, anyway?" Bill raised the question with a suspicious tone.
"Maybe she's even scopin' out for the Pinkertons," Micah snickered, waving his hand at me. "Tryin' to put on a generous face and take the money for herself, I'd reckon."
"I--" Before I could properly defend myself, Arthur had sauntered up, the campfire casting an orange hue onto his face.
"Business with me," he huffed. "We... we worked out a deal awhile back, and she's just repayin' what she owes."
"You told her where camp was?" Micah had spun now to Arthur.
Arthur shrugged, playing it off though we both knew quite well we had not spoken since the Downes incident. "She seem untrustworthy to you, Micah? I reckon if she were out to get us, she'd have told all the lawmen in New Hanover where we were the day she left. There's money on each head here. And after all that mess in Valentine?"
The murmuring grew quiet. He had a point.
Was Arthur Morgan actually coming to my defense? Putting his neck on the line just to save my skin?
"Well... I take it Arthur may just be right about you, Ms. Monroe." Everyone had glanced to Dutch, waiting to see how he would react. I could just feel the authority this man had -- even Micah was looking to see what he'd do. "You didn't rat us out, though I know full well you know who we really are."
"...I do." My fingernails dug into my palm, trying to force my voice steady. "I know it, but... you saved my life. I couldn't... it wouldn't be right." The words sounded just as uncertain as I had felt; is it really justifying to help hide out some outlaws and let them keep robbing and killing folks on their own accord?
"Maybe then you could help us with some business." Hosea crossed his arms as he broke the brief silence. "Are you familiar with the Grays and Braithwaites?"
"Yes." I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat. "They ain't 'round town much, but everyone here knows 'bout their blood feud." I didn't really let myself time to think. It pretty much felt like I'd help these guys with some information, or I'd be subject to whatever traitor treatment they might conjure up for me.
"They got gold?"
"...I believe so, sir. Couldn't have land and help like that without it."
"I see. Then I think we may be on the right track here." Dutch had stepped closer to me. His dark eyes locked with mine. "Can we trust you, Ms. Monroe?"
"Yes, sir. I'm... I'm here to help, whatever I can do. Just please don't hurt the townsfolk, they're scrapin' by, as it is." I looked down at my feet. "Sure, there's gonna be good and bad wherever you go, but the people of Rhodes don't have to pay for the sins of those families."
"...I see. Then we may just need some of your advice to guide us." Dutch's words were now smooth, making me all-too-aware of how easily I've slid into association with them again. I knew he could see right through me - I wasn't strong enough to turn them in if I tried, and now it was either I helped them out or let their power trips run rampant on my congregation's town.
"Sure." I did my best to put on a cordial face.
"Well, no use in holding you here for any longer, Miss." Bill gestured outside of the camp.
"I don't think her leavin' at this hour is a good idea." Sadie had walked up, standing at a close distance beside me. "Don't think we really need to mention why."
"Them Lemoyne Raiders are as bad as the O'Driscolls!" Tilly growled from somewhere behind me.
"They're right. You'll stay with us tonight -- it's decided." Dutch gestured towards the girls' caravan, where Mary-Beth had already excitedly been unrolling another bedroll in the spot where I had slept before.
~~
At this point, the moon was high in the sky, bathing the camp in an icy glow. Mostly everyone had gone to sleep, save for a few of the guys quietly talking over a few beers by the fire. I had laid staring up at the sky for awhile, but sleep couldn't even cross my mind quite yet. With a small sigh I quietly got up, taking my satchel with me. Maybe some time away from the group would help me forget a bit of the situation I've found myself in.
A dried-out fallen tree was half sunken into the beach on the outskirts of the camp. I sat facing the water, skimming over a passage out of Proverbs in my Bible.
Whoever walks in integrity walks securely, but whoever takes crooked paths will be found out. -Proverbs 10:9
If only the finding-out part didn't have to rest on my shoulders now.
After finishing the chapter I shut the book before bringing out my journal. I decided to do a sketch of Clemens Point because it had always been a beautiful site to me. Something about the row of tents and the soft glow of the campfire added an endearing touch to my heart. Without thinking too much about the crimes and all, it was oddly comforting to be back amongst this admittedly-dysfunctional family. It was a group that was built off loyalty, teamwork, and hope -- though we believed different things, could I really say there were much different than me at the core? I scribbled my thoughts onto the paper, wondering when I'd be able to--
"So we offer you some shelter for the night and you take to the wild again, it seems." The voice made me jump in my own skin. I hadn't even heard him come up, but sure enough it was none other than Arthur Morgan. Probably one of the people I'd have avoided the most if given the chance, if not only for the awkwardness that would be leftover from our last conversation.
"Oh, Ar-- Mr. Morgan." I quickly shut my journal, setting it down on the cool grass next to me.
He paused. "It's Arthur." His correction sounded exactly the same as he'd said before. "Mind if I join you?"
I partially tilted my head so he couldn't read the shocked expression that was definitely showing on my face. "Oh, uh... sure, I don't mind." I scooted over slightly to the left. I stared ahead at the lake, Arthur's large frame slowly sitting down in my peripheral vision a respectable distance away. The moonlight glittered on the surface of the water, tiny ripples distorting its reflection.
I had figured he might want to say something about the deal, or Downes, or anything else -- but he was simply quiet. After a few moments, I decided to speak. "Thanks for saving my neck back there. About the business, I mean." I grabbed my satchel as I spoke, sifting through the unorganized mess. "Here's the rest, or should cover it, I believe."
I held out the final wad of bills to Arthur, who just stared at for a few heartbeats before slowly taking it from my hand. "I told Strauss I was done doing his errands," he said quietly. Again, I was a bit surprised, but said nothing -- anytime this man has decided to speak, it was best to keep quiet and let him say his piece, or else you'd risk not hearing anything from him again. "Thought you'd might like to know that."
"Oh wow, that's... yes, that's great, Arthur." Saying his first name out loud felt strange at first, like I had overstepped a personal boundary even though he invited me to do it.
"Told 'im he could find another brawn with no brain with an even colder heart than mine in no time to do the dirty work. And if he was lost, I'd point 'im to where Micah slept."
"Why did you decide to stop?" I wondered if I was already prodding too much, but Arthur seemed genuine in his responses, like he had wanted to say this to someone.
"Strauss told me that Downes is dead." His tone faintly wavered from the usual roughness.
"Oh--" My voice faltered as the realization hit, my hand over my mouth. "Oh, no, his family..."
"Tuberculosis, he said." Arthur scrunched his nose, carefully enunciating each syllable like he could taste the bitter word. "What a damn thing that is. Took 'em pretty quick." Then he shrugged. "He asked me to go back to Mrs. Downes to collect the rest. But then I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout what you said, I guess. Everything just felt... wrong, all of a sudden. I ain't used to that feelin' anymore, so I listened to it."
Grief had softly welled up in my chest like a tightening rope. I dabbed the corners of my eyes with my dress sleeve. I was about to attempt to talk through my tightened throat, but to my surprise, Arthur kept going.
"...So I paid Strauss the rest." He chuckled lowly, like he was telling a joke for himself. "Can't believe I'd ever repay some fool's debt, but I did it. I just didn't want him goin' back there, or sending someone worse than me." He glanced at me. "You okay?"
I sniffed, looking up in shock through teary eyes. "Arthur, that's... that's so kind of you. Thank you... on their behalf, truly, thank you." I didn't have much eloquence in my words, but didn't know much of what else to say. The fact that this man was even telling me this when I thought he clearly hated me was already appalling enough, let alone admitted he paid the rest of Downes' debt.
"I don't know the first thing about kindness." Arthur's gaze drifted back out at the water. A chain pickerel made a tiny leap out of the water, sending tiny ripples in its wake. "I'm not a good man, Summer Grace, and I don't pretend to be one. I jus' told you this so you could rest a bit easier at night." It was just then I noticed he had set the wad of bills between us on the log.
"I... please, take the money," I urged. "Think of it as my way of saying thank you."
Arthur sighed, shaking his head. "Despite my better judgement, I'm gonna have to say no, Miss. Look, we need money, it's true -- but I can't take this from you. Not after what you did for them. It wouldn't be right. Take it back, before I change my mind."
It was at this point he had fully turned to face me, sincerity in his eyes that locked onto mine. I felt a chill run down my spine, yet some sort of comfort at the same time. Here I was, looking into the eyes of a vicious, murderous outlaw who seemed to care for little else except himself and his closest associates -- yet I could see more than that. I caught a glimpse, just a glimpse, of something beyond the exterior.
Maybe this is what Mary-Beth meant.
"Okay." I conceded and took the bills back, wiping my face again with a sleeve.
"I take it you might want to be alone now," he muttered, having turned back to the water again. "I just thought you should know, since you're here and all that... I was gonna write ya about it..."
"No, no, you can stay." I shuffled my feet as I spoke, sniffing again. "It's good to just not be alone sometimes, ya know?"
"Sure." Arthur shrugged. "...Guess I find my own company can get old at times, too."
Against the odds that I presumed, he stayed. We sat there in silence, being alone in our heads yet also alone together.
It reminded me of the picture of my dog and the stray cat my family cared for years back -- opposites that clashed all the time, yet sat down together facing the sunrise each morning, resting in each other's presence.
And for just that moment, I dared to let my guard down and enjoy it.