The next month was torture for Jane. She sat at various places at camp. That was really it. She sat.
And sat.
And sat.
She still hadn't gotten out of chores yet. Pearson had her cut vegetables, the amount of laundry she had to do was endless, and dirty dishes called her name.
She was about to lose her damn mind.
Entertainment was still available, though, despite the long, hot days full of chores that never seemed to end. Arthur and her would talk in the meantime, about his day, and Mary-Beth would read her her romance novels. Jane liked books, and yes, she like the romance ones, they would get old after hearing about thirty. She longed for another kind.
After mentioning it to Hosea, he lent her a book about Joan of Arc, which she devoured. It was a nice, refreshing drink of water to read again. When she was little, she read endlessly. That diminished as she aged.
She also was accompanied by a curious young boy. Jack and her would sit together sometimes, and she would teach him how to read. She felt pitiful for him. He was being raised in a gang of outlaws, and he didn't even know how to read. They started small, with the alphabet and his name, and then they started with small sentences such as, "The dog ran," or "He sat," but now, Jack was beginning to write longer (but still simple) sentences, like "I like to dance," and it filled Jane with a humble pride she hadn't felt before. Sometimes Abigail would sit in, but she was usually busy.
Today, they were talking about contractions.
"So, it's just two words smushed together?" Jack asked. He was seated on the bed next to her. He was braiding together flowers, but was still attentive to what she was teaching.
"Yes. So the contraction, 'isn't', is just 'is' and 'not' squished together. It's just a shorter way to say something."
He looked at her with a funny look on his face. "People are pretty lazy."
That made her chuckle as Hosea approached her. "Yes, they are." She ruffled his hair. "Now, you go on. We'll finish this later."
Jack hopped off the bed and ran off.
"Hello there, Jane," He said. His hands were hidden from her, and she was curious to find out what he was holding.
"Hi, Hosea," she said warmly. "How are you?"
A gleam of excitement rested in his old eyes. "I'm good. How's your leg treating you?"
She gently rubbed it. "It's alright. Getting better. I'm getting real bored around camp, though."
He nodded. "That leads me to what I want to talk about. I was in town, with Bill, and I came across something that I think could help you out- a lot." Bringing his hands out in front of him, he revealed a pair of wooden crutches.
A huge grin broke out on her face. "Thank you, Hosea! You have no idea how much I've hated sitting."
He smiled and chuckled. "It was no trouble. I just want to see you on your feet again."
She scooted forward to the edge of the bed. "Can I try them?" She asked excitedly.
He put an arm on her shoulder to keep her in place. "Slow down there." Turning to John, who sat at a table nearby, he called him over. "John, come help her out."
John obliged, and looked at the crutches. Jane noticed that the same curiousness rested in his, just like Jack's.
"Where'd you find those?" John asked, crossing his arms and resting his weight on his back foot.
"In town," Hosea answered. "Figured that Jane would be willing to try them out."
"Alright," was all he said. "I'm guessing you're gonna need help up?"
Jane nodded. "Yeah. Can't exactly stand on my own."
John gently looped an arm around her waist and grabbed her hand over his shoulder. He pulled her to her feet.
Jane's leg stung with the weight. She hadn't put any on it since the incident, and it reminded her how weak her leg was.
Hosea placed them under her arms, and John slowly released her.
Her weight shifted to the crutches, and Jane took a hesitant step forward.
She didn't fall. She took a few more steps, each moving smoother than the last.
"Well, would you look at that," said John.
Jane turned back to them, smiling big. She was finally free to move again. As relief and the sense of freedom flood her system, she felt that she could cry happy tears.
"Thank you, Hosea," she said.
He nodded. "You're very welcome. Now I have to go help Bill out with unloading the wagon." He left the two alone.
"Thanks," she repeated, but this time to John.
"I should be thanking you."
That earned him a confused glance. "Why?"
He looked over to where Jack was showing his flowers to Abigail. "For teaching my- the boy, I mean, to read."
She studied him. "Why'd you correct yourself?"
He seemed unsettled. "What?"
"You were about to say 'my boy' but then changed it to 'the boy'. He's your son, right?"
He ran a hair through a greasy hair. "Yeah, I mean, I guess."
She shifted her weight from the crutches to her good leg. "What do you mean 'I guess'?"
"I don't know. I," he paused. "I don't know."
She looked to Jack. "He's a good kid. He deserves a present father, and you're lucky to have him."
John sighed. "I suppose you're right. I'm just scared. I don't know the first thing about being a dad."
"I understand. I think the best thing you could do is just love him the best you can. The other parts will come naturally after that."
John was silent for a moment. "You'd make a good mother," He said humorously.
She chuckled. "Thank you. But seriously," she said. "Just think it over."
He nodded. "Thank you," he said. "Now are you good on those?"
She nodded. "I'll manage. I think I'm gonna go for a walk- or hobble- just to get out of the camp for a bit. I feel like I haven't left this camp in forever."
"Alright. Don't go too fast." His voice was laced with humor.
"Oh, yeah," she said, then turned. She went to the trail leading out of camp.
Over her shoulder, she noticed that John had gone back to his tent, where Jack and his mother sat.
She smiled to herself. It was nice to see that there could be a family in the midst of such chaos.
The trees around her thickened as she went farther down the path. The afternoon sun seemed to be drowned out by the thicket of leaves above her.
She took this time to clear her mind. Here she was, free in the wild- or as free as she could be- surrounded by people that she had grown to love.
Sean and Mary-Beth were some of her closest friends, she and John seemed to be getting closer, Hosea was like a father her, and Arthur...
The closest fitting word Jane could think of for Arthur was best friend. He was the person she had grown closest to.
Around her, birds chirped, and the occasional rabbit rustled a nearby bush. The fresh summer air ticked her skin, and blew her hair gently across her face. She stopped walking to readjust the clip that was supposed to be holding her hair back.
Suddenly, the familiar sound of a horse clopping along grew closer. It finally appeared, with Arthur on its back.
He slowed his horse as he approached her. "Well, would you look at that," he said humorously. "She walks."
She smiled at the sight of him. "Yeah, finally. Hosea got these for me in town."
"He's a smart man. But what are you doing out here?"
She pushed a wisp of hair out of her face. "I figured I'd take a walk. I haven't left camp since the morning of the coach robbery."
"That's a long time to stay him camp," he agreed. "Hey, whaddya say we go on a ride? I'll get you out of this camp for a bit."
A grin crept across her face. "That sounds like fun."
"Alright then, leave your crutches here, you can sit behind me."
She set her crutches against a tree and grabbed Arthur's outstretched hand. His strong arm pulled her up and placed her behind him.
He felt her wrap her arms around his torso, and he smiled to himself at the petite woman behind him.
He turned his horse around and set off, down the trail and then took a right.
"So," she said, her red skirt bouncing with the gallop of the horse, "Where were you today?"
He sighed and readjusted his grip on the reins. "I went hunting with Charles for a while. Didn't get much besides a small doe."
"That's more than I've ever got." She looked around her. They were riding through wooded path, but it was gradually getting thinner. "Where are we going?"
"You'll just have to wait and see," he teased.
Jane lightly poked his side, which caused him to jump. "But, Arthur..." she whined.
"Jeez, woman. You're gonna knock me off this horse."
Jane scoffed. "You're going to be soon if you don't know tell me where we're going."
He turned his head back towards her. "You'll just have to trust me."
Sighing but smiling, she said, "Fine."
They rode along in silence for a while. The sun was beginning to creep towards the horizon.
It seemed like we're were always seeing sunsets together, she though. But, I don't mind.
The horse trotted along the rocky trail. Around them, the trail led on to a tall cliff, looking over a valley. There was a patch of grass with colorful wildflowers scattered around, dancing in the wind.
Arthur slowed his horse. When it stopped, he dismounted. "Isn't it pretty?" He asked.
"Yes," she said. He picked her up off the horse, and carried her closer to the cliff.
Jane felt her ears grow warm at their closeness. The sun was touching the top of the far mountain now. It shot pinks and oranges into the sky, creating, yet again, another breathtaking sunset.
He set her down on the grass, then sat beside her.
The grass tickled her ankles as she watched the sunset. Next to her, Arthur say back, with his legs outstretched and his arms supporting his weight behind him. He looked at the lowering sun also.
"So," She thought out loud, "If the sun is so much bigger and farther away from the moon, how come they look the same size?"
Arthur was surprised at the randomness of her question. "What?" He asked, laughing.
She giggled with him. "How come?" She repeated. "It just doesn't make sense."
He chuckled and rubbed his stubble, looking at her. "You're a piece of work, you know that?" He directed his gaze back at the scenery. "It's a damn good thing you didn't get married off. Your husband would have his hands full."
She mimicked his position, leaning her hands back and slowly stretching out her legs. Her leg where her wound was ached, but she had grown to ignore it. "Well, I guess I just need a man with big hands."
He just chuckled. "So any regrets?" He asked, changing the subject.
Sighing, she pushed a wisp of hair out of her face that had been blown there by the wind. "About what? Leaving behind a secure life to live with a bunch of outlaws and killers? No, who would?"
He swung his head towards her. "I was being serious."
She flattened her skirt as the sun sank lower behind the horizon. "Sorry. But, no not really. Even being stuck in camp for the last month, I've never felt more free."
"How'd ya mean?"
"I'm finally my own woman. I don't have my parents making decisions for me anymore or trying to control me. I'm with you guys because I chose you, not because my father decided it for me." She took a deep breath. "Meeting you on that train was the luckiest I've ever been."
"I'm flattered," he said, his smile small. "I guess I'm pretty lucky to have chosen that train to rob."
She bit her lip to conceal her smile. "Well, what about you? Why have you stuck around with the gang?"
"I've been running with them since I was a boy. Hosea taught me to read and write, and Dutch taught me how to shoot, ride, and kill."
She hummed. "What about your parents?"
He was silent for a moment. "My mother died when I was young, and my father was an criminal. He was arrested when I was eleven. Guess I followed the same path as him," he said, rubbing his neck. "Then, Dutch and Hosea picked me up. I've been here since."
Jane didn't respond right away. "Well, I sound ungrateful now," she said after a minute.
He was quick to correct her. "No. We both want the same things- freedom. We just come from two different extremes."
"Yeah, I guess you're right." She looked to him, where he was already looking at her.
In unison, they looked back to the sunset. It was barely peeking over the mountain now. She heard Arthur sigh next to her.
"What?" She asked.
He looked at her, a small smile resting on his lips. "Nothing."