(A/N: I've read back through past chapters and I realized that there are a lot of spelling errors so I'm sorry about that. Also, Eliza and his son don't exist in this fanfic. Oh and I finished the game up until the epilogue, and I cried like a baby. Anyways, back to the story.)
Jane woke up to the feeling of a breeze. Opening her eyes, she saw the bright sky above her, and felt soft grass beneath. She turned her head to the left, where a sleeping Arthur laid.
Her stomach did a flip-flop at the sight of him. He laid on his back, with one arm next to his head and the other resting on his stomach. His hat had fallen off, laying upside down behind his head. He spelt peacefully and snored softly. Part of her stomach fluttered as she studied him. She never noticed how much she like his presence before. No words could quite capture the feeling she was trying to describe.
Her ears grew hot as she sat up, propping herself up on her hands. She had never slept so close to a man before. Her father would have a heart attack if he saw her now.
No, she thought. Stop thinking about him. He's not a part of your life now.
She shook her head, and along with it, the lingering thoughts of her father.
The matted grass beneath her called her name, and her drowsy head dipped towards it, like two lovers trying to reach each other from a far distance. But, the responsibility of getting back to camp caused her to force her tired arms to prop her up.
Yawning, she gently shook Arthur. "Arthur," she said softly.
Taking a sharp, sudden breath in, he flopped his head over towards her, but didn't wake.
"Arthur," she repeated. "Wake up," her voice was barely above a mumble. The morning was never too kind to her.
He groaned, and brought a hand to his face, rubbing it. "What the..." He grumbled, but it was so mumbly that it was barely audible.
He pulled away his hand to reveal Jane sitting next to him. Her morning hair was messy, draped over her shoulder, but he thought it suited her. Grass indents were on the side of her face, evidence that they had fallen asleep there overnight.
"Oh..." He cleared his throat awkwardly as he sat up. "Must've fallen asleep there last night." His voice was rough, still not woken up all the way.
"I guess so."
He stretched before standing up. "We should probably be on our way to camp, then. They're probably wondering what happened to us."
She brushed an ant off her skirt. "You're right. I told John I was going for a walk, and he probably thinks that I ended up dead somewhere," she said drowsily.
He nodded. "Better get you up, then."
Grabbing both of her hands, he lifted her to her feet- or left foot- and then picked her up.
Placing her on the back of his horse, he grabbed his hat, then mounted in front of her. They set off.
The fresh morning air blew her hair out of her face. She plucked a stray blade of grass of Arthur's back as they rode closer to camp.
The sat in silence. The soft clopping of the horse's hoof and the soft brushing of the leaves in the wind seemed to lull her back to sleep. Her head dipped, hitting Arthur's back in the process.
"Hey, you stay awake back there," he teased. "I don't want you to fall off the damn horse."
"Sorry," She mumbled. Instead of sitting back up, she leaned her forehead on his back. He was warm.
He just chuckled and slowed down his horse a bit so she didn't fall off, and so she could sleep for longer.
The feeling of her forehead on his back was comforting. He hadn't been this close to a woman since Mary.
His heart ached at the memory of her. Jane kinda reminded him of her. Both sweet, and one of the few people he was comfortable talking to.
But they were also completely different. Mary cared about her fathers opinion, and wanted a safe life, but Jane was just the opposite. Mary was practical and realistic, while Jane was imaginative and daring.
The more he compared them, the more he came to the conclusion that they couldn't be more different.
Then why does Jane remind me of her? He asked himself.
They trotted into camp as he pushed the question aside.
"Who is it?" Asked a voice that he identified as Charles.
"Arthur. And Jane, I guess."
"Oh, Arthur good to see you. Everyone's been wondering where you've been."
Arthur groaned. "Great."
He went in to camp. "Jane," He said. "We're in camp now."
She stirred, but didn't fully wake up.
"Goodness, Arthur, there you are," Miss Grimshaw said. "Everyone's been worried about you two."
He hopped off his horse, which caused Jane to wake herself up to keep from face planting into the saddle. "Nothing to worry about. Just sat for a bit and then fell asleep by accident."
She looked between them. Arthur swore he could see a hint of judgment.
"If you say so," was all she said before shuffling off.
He turned back to Jane, who was now sitting up, and really looked like she did not want to be awake. "Jane, you gotta get up now. Here, let me get you down." Picking her up off the horse, he carried her over to her cot.
After Arthur had to sleep those nights on his bedroll, he decided to get all the women cots. They were pretty cheap, and they were all very grateful.
She groggily opened her eyes. "Thank you,"
He chuckled at the sight of her. "Anytime. Now you look you need rest." Turing, he saw Micah standing there.
A sly smirk had slipped on Micah's face.
"What do you want?" Arthur growled.
He rocked back on his heels. "Oh, I don't want anything at, cowpoke. Just wondering if you two had a good time last night."
Arthur narrowed his eyes and took a threatening step towards him. "What are you getting at?"
"Oh, you know exactly what I mean. I not surprised when it comes to you, but I didn't know that she was a slu-"
Arthur roughly grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against the wagon next to them. "Finish that sentence, I dare you."
Micah gulped nervously. "I-"
Arthur cut him off again. "Now, I could care less if you say that about me, but if you disrespect her, a damn lady, I might have to pound your head in. Nothing happened Micah. Say another word about it and you'll regret it." He slowly released him.
He slowly scampered off, leaving Arthur shaking his head.
Then, John approached him. "You alright there, pal?"
He sighed. "I guess so. I just hate that rat."
"Me too," he said, then glanced over to Jane. "What happened to you two last night?" He had a certain tone to it.
Arthur rubbed his face. "Not you too," he groaned. "Listen, I know how it looks, but I swear, nothing happened."
John nodded. "I believe you. Besides, you two aren't the type."
Arthur chuckled and rubbed his neck. "Thank you. At least someone around here had some goddamn sense."
John also chuckled. "I'm flattered. Oh, and we went looking for Jane, and found her crutches. They're by her cot."
"Alright, thanks."
He nodded, then headed over to the fire.
Arthur sighed and looked to where Jane slept peacefully. This woman is gonna be the death of me, he thought.
~~~~
Two days had passed since then. Jane went back to chores, but now she was able to walk around on her crutches. Since she got shot, her leg was significantly better. She even walked without the crutches for a few minutes, with Arthur spotting her, of course.
Today, Arthur had gone to collect a debt from Thomas Downes. Hosea, John, Jane, and him sat around the fire, eating dinner.
"The poor bastard," Arthur said, telling them the story, "I think I nearly killed him. He was already sick."
John spooned some stew into his mouth. "Like a cold or something?"
"Nah. Something serious. Nasty bastard coughed blood on my face," he said, nonchalantly.
Jane's heart froze. Hosea showed the same concern on his face.
"Blood?" She asked.
He nodded. "Yeah. He was coughing up a storm."
"How much blood did he get on you?" Hosea set his bowl down next to him.
Arthur rubbed his jaw. "I don't know. I wiped it off, though."
Jane bit her lip in worry. "Arthur, he probably had tuberculosis."
"Tuberculosis?"
Hosea nodded. "Yeah." He looked to Jane. "We need to get him to a doctor."
"I don't need to go to a doctor," Arthur protested. "I'm not even coughing."
Jane shook her head. "Have you ever heard about germs? They discovered them about thirty years ago."
"Sounds familiar."
"Well, that man's germs, which carries the disease, might be in you now," Hosea picked up. "If they are, you'll probably get it in time."
Arthur leaned back. "How do you two know all this?"
"Hosea had a book about it and I borrowed it," Jane said.
"Yeah. I got it from Blackwater."
Arthur shook his head and stood up. "Well, books aside, I'm not sick. If I was, I'd know it." He set off towards his wagon.
Jane and Hosea exchanged a look before she set after him, hobbling on her crutches.
"Arthur," she called after him.
"What?" He grumbled. He stood next to his bed, picking something up off of the table. His back was turned to her.
"Why won't you go to the doctor?"
"I'm not sick." His back was still facing her.
"But you might be soon. I- we, want to make sure that doesn't happen."
He sighed and turned to her. "If I start coughing, I'll go, okay? But right now, I'm okay."
She raised an eyebrow. "Promise?"
"Promise."
She glanced behind him, where a picture of a woman sat. "Who's that?"
He look to where her gaze rested, and saw a sadness in his eyes.
"Her name's Mary."
She sat down on the end of his bed. "She's awfully pretty."
He just hummed and sat next to her.
She rubbed her hands together. "How do you know each other?"
He was quite for a moment. "We were sweet on each other. But it was a long time ago." He took off his hat and fiddled with it in his hands. "We was even engaged, for a bit. But daddy didn't approve of me," he said bitterly. "And our lives were too different. Guess she didn't want me enough."
Jane was struck with pity. "I'm sorry. Life's sour sometimes, isn't it?"
He nodded. "Yeah, but like I said, it was a long time ago." He looked up to her. "What about you? You ever had a beau before?"
She just laughed. "No. I'm not quite sure why, though. Just has never been the right guy." She paused and looked up, as if accessing her memories. "Well, actually, when I was young, maybe fifteen or so, there was one boy I was sweet on. His name was Peter. Lived on the property next to ours. I would sneak over and see him when my father was out. Then, he moved and I haven't seen him since."
He leaned back. "Well, that is quite a whirlwind romance."
"Oh, shut it," she said playfully, bumping his shoulder with hers. "I didn't get out much as a kid."
He chuckled. "I can tell."
Around them, it was beginning to grow dark outside. Sean's loud voice could be heard from where they were sitting. Karen was drunk, as usual, but besides that, it was pretty quiet.
"I like having these talks with you," Arthur said randomly. "It's nice to be able to talk to someone."
A warm feeling spread across her chest. "Me too."
~~~~
The next day, Jane sat on a rock on the edge of camp, reading a book out loud. Abigail sat next to her, listening to her reading.
Jack has gone out with Arthur to fish. Abigail nearly begged him to, because John wasn't stepping up and being much of a dad. She knew that Jack needed a father figure, so she asked Arthur to spend a bit of time with him.
Jane finished the chapter and set the book down. "So," she said to Abigail, "how have you been?"
She sighed and looked over the valley. "Good, I guess. Just worried about Jack and John."
"I understand." She paused. "I talked to John the other day."
Abigail looked to her with a curious look on her face.
"He said that he doesn't know how to be a father. I think he's just scared."
She nodded. "He's told me that before. I just wished he would try. Hell, Arthur's more of a father to the boy than John."
"I'm sure it will get better. Just give him time."
"I sure hope so."
Suddenly, a young boy's voice rang out. "Hi, Mama,"
Next to them, Arthur and Jack stood. Arthur had a worried look on his face, but Jack seemed normal.
"Hey there, sweetie," Abigail said, pulling the boy into a hug. She looked up to Arthur. "How did it go?"
Arthur rubbed his neck. "At first, good. Then two Pinkertons showed up. They want Dutch."
"Pinkertons?" Jane asked.
He nodded. "Yeah. Don't know how they found us, but now they know we're camped near here."
Abigail held Jack close. "Was Jack okay?"
Arthur nodded. "Yeah. He was a brave boy," he said, rustling Jacks hair.
"Thanks Uncle Arthur."
Arthur smiled, then directed his attention back to the two women. "Now, I've got to go talk to Dutch."
"Yeah, go do that," Abigail said, then looked to Jack as Arthur walked off. "How was the trip, Jack?"
Jack handed her a ring of flowers. "It was kinda boring. But I made you this."
She gasped with delight at it. It was simple, but Jane knew that a present from your child meant the world to a mother.
"Oh, Jack, I love it!" She hugged the child tightly as she gently held the flower chain in her hand.
He had a shy smile on his face as she released him. Jane's heart melted at the sight of him.
Deciding to give the mother-son duo some space, she pushed herself up on her crutches and hobbled into camp. The smell of Pearson's stew cooking up met her nose. She could hear Dutch and Arthur worrying together about the Pinkertons and the random chatter of other camp-dwellers.
The ground was dry beneath her, longing for rain, as she went to her bed.
The stake sheets crinkled underneath her as she sat upon them. After settling down, she decided to get back up, the the indecisive woman she is.
But she didn't grab her crutches. Instead, she took a few steps without them. When there was only a dull pain, she decided to walk a lap around the wagon.
She looped all the way around without falling, her knees buckling, or strong pain in her leg.
A breathy laughed left left lips. She was doing it!
The last time she had walked more than three steps was when she pulled over the stage coach.
She felt a sense of freedom again. While she still had to rest, she wasn't confined to being carried and relying on crutches.
Suddenly, as she rounded the corner to the front of the wagon, she spotted Arthur. "Well, I'll be damned Jane. I thought you'd only be able to walk three steps at a time for the rest of your life." His arms were above his head, leaned against the canopy.
Smiling and shaking her head, she walked closer to him, and did a humorous turn, as if showing off.
He chuckled. "You're doing a lot better. Why, two days ago you were stumbling around like a little one."
She plopped herself on her bed, her legs crisscrossed. "Guess I'm a fast learner."
"If you say so."
"So, what'd Dutch say about the Pinkertons?"
He sighed and lowered his arms. "Nothing I didn't agree with. Says we need to get out of here soon."
Jane took a look around camp. We have to leave? But it's so pretty here. Where else would we go?
It was almost as if Arthur could read her thoughts. "He says that we'll go East, which I'm not sure how I feel about. Means we're getting closer too..." he lowered his voice, as if saying a cuss word, "civilization."
"It can't be that bad," she said as he moved closer to her bed, sitting on the ground with his back to the side of the bed. "It's like a fresh start every place new. You get to meet new people."
He rubbed his jaw. "It's hard to have a new start when you're a wanted man in two states."
"Yeah, that's always a bit of a buffer."
Arthur lit a cigarette. "And besides, I though you wanted to see the country, not the cities."
"Well, cities are part of this country," she said in a taunting tone.
He fanned away some smoke from his face. "Miss Jane, I didn't know you were one to be sarcastic."
"Well, you should know me better by now, Mr. Morgan."
He just laughed.
She returned to a more serious, but lighthearted demeanor. "But, yes, I do want to go out west. I've heard that there is a beautiful mountain range. Oh," she said, getting more excited by the second, "and that there's these things, called geysers, that shoot hot water up in the air, all powered by the earth? No machines?"
Arthur grinned as he listened to her passionate rant. "Sounds beautiful."
She continued to gush about the west. "And that there's a whole coast line of beaches? Oh- I almost forgot- there's a river that carved out the land so much it's a giant canyon. Lord, I'd love to visit there some day."
Arthur breathed out puff of smoke and leaned his head back, resting it on her bed next to her leg. "Well, after we get a bit of money, the plan is to go that way."
She fiddled her hands together as she looked down to his face. Shaking her head, she plucked the cigarette out of his mouth and threw it on the ground. "Don't smoke those things, at least around me. They smell bad."
He chuckled. "Whatever you say."