Another evening had come. The bright sun had set behind the mountains, coloring the sky crimson, and the Van der Linde gang decided to throw a small party. Dutch decided to celebrate the return of the red-haired Sean, who had been pulled straight from the clutches of the bounty hunters, so he told everyone to have fun. The man had already had enough to drink, so he wandered among the tents and grinned at everyone who got in his way, using his philosophical speeches.
I was sitting at a round table, surrounded by bottles of beer and a yellow lantern in the middle of the wooden surface. Karen, Sean, Uncle and Javier sat around it. The last one was fingering the strings of his guitar and swaying relaxedly to an unobtrusive tune. Sean, whom I had only just met, kept talking about his adventures. His accent sometimes made it hard to understand what he was saying. I was still remembering the last drink, so this time I decided not to drink too much, holding only one bottle of beer, which still managed to relax me and close my eyes calmly. At one moment Uncle started humming the lyrics to one of his lewd songs, and everyone else picked up on it, but Karen was the loudest. With a hand on my cheek, I stared at the blonde, and suddenly with a frown and a suspicious squint realized that she was constantly casting ambiguous glances at the smiling Sean, who was also casually touching her exposed skin. What had I missed? My drowsiness was wiped away when I caught those uncomprehending glances. Sean had taken Javier's guitar away from him and was playing instead. I slapped Karen's thigh, causing her to jump up and down, giving me an annoyed look.
- Is there something I don't know? - I asked, moving closer.
- What do you mean? - blonde waved her curls, forcing me to lean back.
- Don't be a stupid, Karen, - I rolled my eyes and pointed at Sean. - What's going on between you two?
- Oh, you mean this, - Jones laughed flirtatiously and waved her hand. - Nothing special.
- Now you think I'm a stupid? - I moved closer to her, lowering my voice conspiratorially. - You're looking at each other like you're about to make love on this table!
- Maybe it's time for you to make love to someone else, - girl hissed, narrowing her eyes like a snake.
- Oh, yeah?! - I shrieked and moved away from Karen. - I will, okay?
- Yes, of course, do it, - she said, a mocking smile tugging at her lips.
- I'll do it, - I got to my feet, kicking the stool away resentfully. - You white-haired viper...
I turned my back to the girl and headed for my tent, muttering something to myself. Make love to someone? If only there was someone to make love to, Karen. I stopped at the supply cart, grabbed an oatmeal cookie and chewed thoughtfully. Eyes followed what each member of the gang was doing. Some were singing loudly, some were sitting around the campfire telling stories, some were swaying to a smooth tune, some were keeping their eyes on the bottle. Soon everyone started to disperse to their sleeping spots, and I could see Karen and Sean separate and seclude themselves in John's tent. Weird couple. If Marston found them, there'd be a hell of a scream. Damn, the blonde's words had me thinking. Or was it the alcohol playing tricks on my brain? I shook my head, trying to shake off the thought that Karen was right. It had just been a long time since I'd thought about it, and I hadn't pictured anyone in particular. After everything that had happened to me, the possibility of intimacy seemed repulsive. After Richard it was like I'd become a nun. My face lit up involuntarily at the thought, and I touched my flushed cheeks. The last bottle was clearly unnecessary. Suddenly, Uncle walked by, and out of his mouth came Karen's incessant favorite song about some prostitute. He stood right in front of me and danced with a flushed face. Before I could touch the oatmeal cookie with my teeth, I threw it at Uncle's forehead, hoping it would make him go away. He froze, stared at me with hollow eyes for a few seconds, and then he bellowed the next song in his vast repertoire and went the other way, tripping over his own pant leg, which had somehow slid down. It was time to get into the tent and go to bed.
- What happened to your face? - I flinched at the unexpected voice, whose owner had crept up from behind and was now standing in front of me, staring mockingly into my eyes.
Oh, no, brain, not that, not that. If the universe is answering my questions by sending me signs and hints like this, then screw you, universe. Sex with Arthur? Unthinkable. Just thinking about it made my knees tingle. Although before that, I had Uncle dancing in front of me. No, Morgan would be a better option.
- What about my face? - I asked, coughing because my voice was suddenly hoarse.
- Too serious. Your ears are going to steam up, - Morgan grinned and poked me in the forehead with his finger, which made me frown even more, and I shook his hand away. - Stop thinking so much, I can see the gears in your head turning. Relax.
- I already relaxed with you once, and then I got bruised ribs from jumping off the bar, - I mumbled, grudgingly picking up another cookie.
- What's biting you? - man snatched the box of cookies from me and set it aside.
- Nothing, - I sighed, forcing myself to look at Artur. - Why are you bothering me?
- I want to dance with you, - he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the fire.
- What's biting you? - I asked, squinting my eyes suspiciously. - I know you're a terrible dancer.
- Hey, I'm a damn professional, - Arthur pulled me to him rather abruptly, causing me to exhale loudly in surprise.
- Tell that to my stomped feet, - I replied, holding back a cheerful smile.
Morgan chuckled softly and shook his head. A heavy hand rested on my waist, and the other forced my fingers into his palm. He began to step from foot to foot, swaying to a quiet tune. Dutch and Molly were dancing nearby, but they didn't seem to notice us. It was as if it were meant to be. As if a hot palm hadn't left an exciting burn on my skin beneath my thin shirt. I lifted my head and accidentally bumped my forehead against the brim of his hat. Another chuckle escaped the man's lips, and my hand moved from his shoulder to unceremoniously grab Arthur's hat and take it for myself. The man playfully adjusted the hat on my head as the brim fell forward to cover my eyes, and then his fingers touched my loose hair, tucked a curly lock behind my ear, and ran a weightless motion along the line from ear to chin, forcing me to hold my breath. Why hadn't I noticed the moment he'd gotten so close? My heart started pounding against my chest.
- Why didn't you choose Mary-Beth? - it was hard to hide the tremor in my voice, and I licked my dry lips. - She would have been so happy to dance with you.
- And you? - Arthur asked, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
- What are you talking about, Morgan? - I said, grinning nervously. - I'm over the moon. Being trampled by a man who looks like a bear is the end of my dreams.
- All you did in the saloon was hang on me trying to dance, - man said softly, looking down at me.
- I was drunk, - I replied, looking away.
- Me too, - Arthur whirled me around and then pulled me closer, putting both hands on my waist. - But I still remember what I said.
I froze, like a hunted animal under the penetrating gaze of a predator. Slowly I looked up and felt my face burn with fire. Hands slipped from the man's shoulders absentmindedly. A mocking whistle behind me made me wince awkwardly and wake up from my excited oblivion. My whole body felt Arthur's muscles tense threateningly. I saw his eyes stare sternly at the man behind me, as if he were capable of cutting out hearts with a single glance. The one who had ruined an already tense moment seemed to realize what he had done and, quickly apologizing, disappeared. Exhaling quietly, I gently pulled away without looking up. Everyone had gone, and now all that could be heard was the crackling of the fire, the distant singing of birds, and the sound of snoring.
- No, - Arthur grabbed my arm, forcing me to stand.
Then he let out a sigh that sounded more like a disgruntled growl, glanced around quickly, and pulled me insistently toward the trees cast in the night shadows. I grabbed the hat on my head in surprise, holding it in place. In one motion I found myself pressed against a wide tree. An unexpected sigh escaped my chest. Arthur grabbed the hat I was clutching as if it were the most important object in the whole world and threw it to the ground. His eyes lowered resolutely to my parted lips, and then I swallowed loudly at the saliva that had accumulated from excitement. The man sighed through his nose before leaning forward to touch my lips with his own. My eyes closed involuntarily, and I felt the hot touch of rough palms sliding from my cheeks to my neck. Arthur kissed me with such care and fierceness, as if he thought I might push him away, but at the same time he was sure I would stay. My hands slid down his forearms and moved higher, forcing to press harder. I stretched my neck, letting the kiss deepen. Arthur's movements became greedy as he clutched the fabric of my shirt with his fingers and roughly pulled me closer to him, eliciting a surprised moan from my lips that immediately disappeared amidst the wet kiss. The stubble scratched the sensitive skin. It was becoming almost impossible to breathe, and my heart was ready to burst into little pieces. If someone asked me to characterize him, I'd confidently call Arthur overly emotional and rushed. The weakness in my knees almost made me collapse to the ground, but Morgan kept pressing me into the wood, biting my lip and wandering his hands along my body.
The soft singing forced us to pull away. Breathing heavily, I peered cautiously over the man's shoulder. Not far away from us a staggering Bill was pissing in a nearby tree, mumbling a tune to himself. Arthur exhaled disgruntledly and took a step back, fixing his hair and pulling on his jacket. I did the same, crouched down, picked up my hat from the ground, shook the leaves off it, and handed it to the man.
- Hey, guys, - Bill finally spotted us and waved his hand, smiling drunkenly. - What are you doing here? Did you lose something?
Morgan silently stepped closer, looking at the satisfied Williamson, and shoved him in the chest with all his might. The man fell backwards into the foliage with a shriek and snored a few seconds later. My fingers touched the bridge of my nose and I shook my head in wonder, holding back the urge to laugh out loud.
- Go to sleep, - Arthur glanced at his hat and put it back on a head.
I nodded resignedly, touched my swollen lips and after a few seconds of awkward stumbling, headed for the tent. I heard Arthur's footsteps only as I pulled off my shoes and pulled on the thick fabric.
***
The morning was overcast. The downpour had made the air damp and fresh. There was an involuntary scolding from all sides as someone stepped in a puddle or slipped on the liquid mud. The sky was covered with grey clouds. A slight chill made me involuntarily shiver and put on my coat. I could feel the dampness of the dull fog that had settled among the trees. I yawned and rubbed my sleepy face with my hands. Walked over to the table where Charles was sitting, grinding some herbs in a mortar. I stared at him curiously, and the man, noticing my attention, handed me a mug with a hot drink. It was a tea with some herbs I didn't understand, but Charles said they were not only safe, but useful. I wandered sleepily around the camp with the hot mug in my hands.
When I heard a child's voice, I stopped involuntarily. Little Jack was sitting on the damp grass, hiding in the bushes away from everyone, picking at the ground with a long stick.
- Hey, kid, - I said, sitting down next to him. - What are you doing?
- Playing, - he answered, raising his bright eyes to me.
- You're not bored? - I asked, smiling softly.
- Bored, - his thin shoulders slumped. - Everyone's busy doing something.
- How about I go to your mum's, warn her not to lose you, and we do something fun together? - I suggested, straightening up.
- Fine, - Jack shrugged idly, and I grinned silently, as if I realised I'd only done it to amuse myself.
As I moved closer to Abigail, however, I heard Arthur's voice. I frowned and casually stepped closer, squinting my eyes.
- I'm your preferred nursemaid? - man said, shaking his head.
- Because you do what you say, - Abigail said quietly, lowering her eyes. - And you know there's not much help from his father.
- What are you two talking about? - I asked, taking a loud sip from my mug.
- Joe, help me, - girl pleaded, looking up at me. - Get him to spend time with Jack, please. He seems kind of down.
- That's why I'm here for, - I snapped my fingers. - I wanted to take Jack for a walk, because he's going to get bored out there.
- God, I love you, - Abby grinned and put her arm around my shoulders, almost spilling the contents of my mug on herself.
- And Arthur would love to keep me company, - I touched the man's elbow and pulled him closer with feigned joy. - Wouldn't you, Arthur?
- Exactly, - he gritted his teeth and smiled crookedly.
- Great, - girl nodded, I think, noticing Morgan's fake enthusiasm and successfully ignoring it. - Thank you.
When Abigail left, Arthur gave me a grim look, making me laugh silently. I shrugged and clapped him on the shoulder, causing him to roll his eyes in frustration. Suddenly I remembered the night before. It was as if it had never happened. It was like it had been a dream. Morgan seemed to guess what I was thinking, looking at him with a confused look. Awkwardness hung in the air, and I coughed loudly to break it, then turned on my heels and headed toward the boy.
- Hey, Jack, you wanna come fishing with me? - Arthur was the first to speak, causing me to roll my eyes unhappily.
- Fishing? - little Marston asked, his head bowed, interested.
- Sure, - Morgan nodded, his hands awkwardly at his sides. - You're... It's about time that you started to earn your keep.
- Okay, - Jack agreed and glanced at me. - But I've already promised Aunt Joe.
- She's coming with us, - he grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me close. - We're not going to leave Aunt Joe alone, right?
I smiled broadly, but I used my other hand to discreetly pinch Arthur's side, but he endured it, grinning vindictively.
- Exactly, - Jack got to his feet and swayed in place, hearing my answer.
- Great, - Morgan waved his hand, and all his awkwardness with the kids was gone. - Let's go get your pole then. Now you do have a fishing pole, don't you?
- I sure do, - boy stuck his chin up. - Uncle Hosea made me one.
- Good, - man clapped me on the back, making me clench my jaw irritably, and pulled away. - Well let's go get it then.
As Jack searched for his fishing gear, I sighed disappointedly, following Arthur's lead as he grabbed his fishing pole and other supplies.
- Why fishing? - I groaned in frustration.
- Because I know how much you hate it, - man said with a grin, flicking me on the tip of my nose, causing me to twitch and punch him in the arm.
- You've doomed yourself to suffer through my whining, Morgan, - I said as I climbed onto my horse.
- Don't worry, I've been living with it for years, - Arthur said, looking up at me with a sly squint, and I wanted to kick him, but he grabbed my ankle playfully and pretended to pull me on him.
- I'm ready, - came a ringing voice, and I stopped giggling abruptly, glancing at Jack.
Morgan climbed onto his horse and grabbed the boy by his jacket with one hand, easily lifting him into the air and setting him down in front of him. After a while, we reached the wide river, nestled in the plain between the mountain slopes. I took a deep breath of moist air into my lungs and jumped to the ground. I couldn't help but agree that there was one good thing about fishing: the mesmerising views. But the long wait and the constantly buzzing mosquitoes, wanting to suck all the blood, spoilt the possible beauty.
- I got one for you too, - Arthur winked at me with one eye and held out his fishing pole, which I snatched out of his hands with an irritated snort.
With his fishing tackle in his hands, Jack started wandering along the shore, kicking at pebbles. Only Morgan seemed interested in fishing. While the man tried to get the hang of it, I jokingly followed Jack, almost stepping on his heels, causing him to jump forward, chuckling softly. Then I squatted down so that I was on the same level with Jack, and splashed him lightly with river water. He stared at me with wide-open eyes and jumped to splash me too, which caused me to let out a fake loud gasp and laugh. I guess Abigail was a strict and a little bit reserved mother to play with her son like this.
- Am I the only one who needs it? - Morgan's voice sounded, and I could hardly keep from answering him in agreement.
- Let's watch Uncle Arthur do it, and then we'll try it together, - I gave him a serious and concentrated look and pushed him down on the grass near the river, then sat down beside him. - Come on, master fisherman!
Arthur shook his head and then cast his rod into the water. We waited and watched the man and the river closely. At the same time the boy began to pick flowers around and weave something out of them, asking us not to peek.
- Uncle Arthur, I think you have got a bite! - Jack suddenly spoke excitedly, moving forward a little. - Huge one?
- See him fighting there? - replied the man, gripping the rod more conveniently. - That's when you gotta be careful or you'll break the line. Best to wear him out first before you try'n reel him in.
- What happens in the other case? - I asked jokingly, making my voice sound important.
- What happens is what happened on your first fishing trip, Joanna, - he replied, concentrating on the catch.
- Right, - I snapped my fingers understandingly, forgetting the moment when a surprisingly large fish had dragged my rod into the water, nearly dragging me with it.
Arthur began to spin the reel diligently, concentrating on the fish, which he said was tired. It floundered in the water, and a few seconds later it was in the air, twitching on the hook.
- Look, it's a bluegill, - man said. - It's almost as small as you.
Tossing the fish into the bucket, Arthur looked at us. I squinted into the sun, exposing my face to the warm rays. A silly smile slipped across his lips.
- Hey, look at this! - Jack exclaimed, drawing my attention.
- At what? - said the man, approaching interestedly.
- This necklaces I made, - replied the boy, holding up two pieces of pinkish flower jewellery.
- Necklaces? - Morgan asked, sitting down beside us.
- For momma, - little Marston carefully put the gift for Abby aside and held out the other one to me. - And for Aunt Joe.
- Thank you, Jack, - I smiled broadly, feeling a genuine warmth in my chest from this charming and kind child, and hung the necklace around my neck with a proud expression.
- What a fine young man and in such complex circumstances.
I don't know how we didn't hear the clatter of hooves or sense the presence of someone else. Arthur and I jumped to our feet, covering Jack warily. A lean, smooth-shaven man stepped forward, and the sun illuminated his slightly flushed face, covered with old, ugly scars, among which on his cheeks were the marks of smallpox, which the stranger must have once had. But as my eyes looked more closely at the man, I noticed the usually black suit, the red vest beneath the jacket and the badge bearing the emblem of the Pinkerton Agency.
- Arthur, isn't it? - he said, stepping closer. - Arthur Morgan?
There was the sound of a shotgun bolt, and then I shifted my eyes to the second man with the gun in his hands. They didn't mean to shoot us, but they thought they were trying to intimidate us.
- Who are you? - in situations like this, Arthur changed like a snap of the fingers.
- Yes, Arthur Morgan, Van der Linde's most trusted associate, - agent deliberately extended the man's name, nodded his head, and then turned to his partner as if we weren't even here. - You've read the files, typical case... Orphaned street kid seduced by that maniac's silver tongue and matures into a degenerate murderer.
They introduced themselves as Agents Milton and Ross of the Pinkerton Detective Agency seconded to the United States Government. The second was the quieter, silent, but cautioned holding a shotgun in his hands.
- Nice to finally meet, - Milton's voice was playfully friendly, ingratiating, businesslike, but it did not inspire confidence. - We know a lot about you. And you too, Mrs. Percy. Or is it Ms. Starr?
- Do you? - Morgan pushed me with a hand gently behind his back, keeping his eyes on the agents.
- You're wanted man, Mr. Morgan, - man shifted his weight onto his right leg, holding onto his belt. - There is a five thousand dollar for your head alone. And for yours, young lady, a little less.
- Five thousand dollars? For me? - Arthur looked at me with a grin. - Can I turn myself in?
- What am I wanted for? - I asked, trying to hide the tremor in my voice.
- Murder, - he answered, shrugging. - Four burned bodies in a burned-out house belonging to the Percy family. I suppose one of your brothers was there?
- Are you kidding? - I hissed, taking a step forward, but Morgan yanked me back again. - My brother is a worse bandit than some others, and he's paying for his deeds because you don't deal with it.
- We want Van der Linde, - Milton turned indifferently to Arthur, I guess he wasn't that interested in me.
- Old Dutch? - Arthur interjected. - I haven't seen him for months.
- That so? - I think the agent might have found success as an actor. - Because I heard that a guy fitting his description robbed a train belonging to Leviticus Cornwall up near Granite Pass.
- Oh, ain't that a little old fashioned nowadays? - Morgan grinned, and I realized he'd never be an actor.
- Apparently not, - man nodded and spread his hands apart. - Listen, this is my offer, Mr. Morgan. Bring in Van der Linde, and you have my word, you won't swing.
With each word the agents took a step closer, and now they were standing directly in front of Morgan. He pushed me slightly away again, and I grabbed Jack's jacket, tucking him behind me.
- Oh, I ain't gonna swing anyways, Agent... - Arthur started, and reminded the man of his name, which the thug successfully ignored. - You see, I haven't done anything wrong, aside from not play the game to your rules.
- Spare me the philosophy lesson, - Milton said tiredly. - I've already heard it from Mac Callander.
- Mac Callander? - Both Morgan and I interjected.
- He was pretty shot up by the time I got to him, - agent said with a disappointed cluck of his tongue. - So really it was more of a mercy killing. Slow, but merciful.
Another gang member left us. I saw Arthur's back tense as he lowered his head, hiding his dark eyes beneath the brim of a hat. He dropped the fishing pole he'd been clutching in his hand with a sudden movement, and Agent Ross quickly pointed his shotgun at him, and little Jack squeaked and grabbed my hand, pulling me even closer.
- You enjoy being a rich man's toy, do you?! - Morgan wheezed.
- I enjoy society flaws and all, - Milton said, raising his voice and taking a step closer. - You people venerate savagery, and you will die savagely. All of you!
- Oh, we're all gonna die, Agent, - Arthur said, not even moving from his place.
- Some of us sooner then others, - Milton seemed to stir and turned his back with a sharp heeled movement. - Good day, Mr. Morgan. Ms. Starr.
- Enjoy your fishing, kid, while you still can, - Ross said with a wicked laugh, not immediately lowering his shotgun.
- Who are they? - Jack stepped forward, watching as the agents climbed onto their horses.
- No one to worry about, - Arthur tousled the boy's hair soothingly, but there was a sternness in his voice. - No one at all. Let's pick up your things and get home.
The man glanced at me silently and touched my shoulder with a heavy sigh. He seemed to be trying to be supportive, and I nodded back, hinting that it was okay. We got back to the camp quickly enough. We were met by Abigail, who came closer with a smile to see how our time had gone.
- Here you are! - she said cheerfully. - How you getting on?
- Great, we caught a fish, and I made you this necklace, - boy held out the jewelry to Abby.
- Ain't that pretty? Ain't I the luckiest... - girl replied, stroking her son's head. - Did you make it for Aunt Joe, too?
- Oh, yes, - I said, flipping my hair and craning my neck so she could see my new bling. - And it's better than yours.
- All right, all right, - future Marston laughed and waved her hands, admitting defeat. - Did you thank Uncle Arthur and Aunt Jo?
- No need, - Morgan replied, handing Jack back his fishing rod. - We had a good time.
- What's wrong? - Abigail's smile disappeared as soon as the boy went to put his things away.
- Nothing, - man shook his head and looked at me with a quick glance. - Just met some folk... I'd better go speak with Dutch.
Abby nodded understandingly, and Arthur, praising Jack, headed for the gang leader's tent, and I followed.
- We got a problem, - Morgan began without prelude, distracting Dutch from reading his book.
- What? - black-haired man's eyebrows lowered as soon as he saw us.
- We hust met some guys out near the river, - Arthur tried not to raise his voice. - A feller named Milton and... I don't remember the other feller's name...
- Ross, - I said, sitting down on a chair in the corner.
- Right, - man pointed his finger at me. - Milton and Ross.
- And? - Dutch said, looking at us questioningly.
- And they are employees of the Pinkerton Detective Agency, - Morgan was getting excited now, pacing around inside the tent. - And they know about the train, and they know we're here.
- Were you followed back here? - Van der Linde dropped the book and got to his feet.
- No, - Morgan answered, raising his hands. - They know we're near here. And they want you, Dutch. They offered me my freedom in exchange they did.
- Why didn't you take it? - he answered as he stepped outside.
- Very funny, - Morgan grinned grudgingly and stepped closer, but I stayed where I was. - What do we do now?
Dutch wandered pensively around the tent, his hands touching his head, and Arthur stood waiting for an answer.
- I said we do nothing just yet, - gang leader said, emphasizing the last word. - They're just trying to scare us into doing something stupid. We have turned a corner, we survived them mountains. We just need to stay calm.
I knew that all people made mistakes, but I'd always thought Dutch was incapable of such blunders.