Jane tightened her grip on Apollo's reins as she rode into Valentine. John rode by her side, with Javier on her other.
The last time she was here, she had seen her father. She prayed to God she wouldn't see him again. If he saw her... well then, hell would be raised.
She tried to push away thoughts of her father and focused on the now. The world was cooling down from the long, hot day, and the sun had long since set. The trio rode into the small town as shop owners lit their buildings.
They had plans to rob some fellers that were drunk in the saloon. Anxiety gnawed away at her at the prospect of being around drunk men. They were unpredictable.
The saloon blazed with light and noise. Hitching their horses, they hopped off.
"You ready for this?" John asked.
"I think so," She said, her fingers playing with the hem of her shirt. "Will you guys keep an eye out for me?"
They both nodded. "Of course," Javier said. "Pretty sure Arthur and Hosea would kill us if anything happened to you."
She chuckled, taking a bit of the nerves off. Maybe she needed a drink or two.
Inside the bar it reeked of whiskey. It was about ten thirty at night, but there were already drunk men sprawled all over. The piano man's fingers danced across the instrument, filling the space with music and a busy feeling.
John led her to the bar, and bought the three each a drink. "Let's start the night off right."
Laughing, they all took the shot. Jane's throat burned from the alcohol. She barely drank, so she was a bit of a lightweight.
"Alright," Javier said. "Let's get some money. We'll be near if you need us, Jane."
She nodded, and smiled at the gesture. "Thanks."
The two men left her alone, and went off into the crowd.
She massaged her leg where she had gotten shot just a month and a half ago. This was the first time she'd worn pants since the incident. The wound had mostly healed at this point, but that didn't mean that it didn't hurt sometimes.
She pushed herself off the bar and into the crowd. Drifting around people, she gave sweet smiles and small waves to tipsy men.
She gracefully sauntered up the steps, where she figured she could find more drunks on the verge of passing out.
Lo and behold, there was a man unconscious that was sitting up against the wall. She glanced around before bending down towards him. There was only a few other people around, and they were mostly distracted or intoxicated.
Grimacing, she searched his pockets and coat for money. His body was coated in sweat. Jane almost gagged.
He had two dollars and a silver pocket-watch on him. Not bad.
She promptly stood up and moved on. There were two guys that were very drunk. They stumbled around, laughing and dancing, and doing God knows what.
Approaching them, she put on her best charming skills. "Well, hello there, gentlemen," She honeyed.
They dumbly turned to her. "Howdy there, miss," the fat, bald one said.
The thin one wiggled his fingers at her in attempt of a wave.
She swayed towards them. "You boys look a bit warm. Mind if I take your coats? I'll put them on the coat rack downstairs."
They gave her a toothy smile.
"Well, gee. You're a pretty... you're a pretty kind lady," the thin one said, pointing his finger at her and stumbling around there.
The fat one wrestled out of his coat, and tried to drop it in her hands, but it landed on the floor in front of him. She faked a smile and picked it up.
The thinner one was having trouble, though. Sighing, she got behind him and helped his shrug it off.
"I'll have these downstairs for you," she said, then turned and left the two drunkards stumbling around.
As she went to the stairs, she fished through the pockets. In them, there was ten dollars in one, a wedding ring in another, and another silver pocket-watch in the last.
She gnawed her lip at the sight of the wedding ring. It felt wrong, but hey, it could get some good money. Besides, only a bastard wouldn't wear his wedding ring.
As she went down the stairs, she spotted John ushering a drunk man out of the saloon doors. Javier was at the poker table. Of course.
Putting the coats on the rack, she followed John outside. The cool evening air was a nice change from the whiskey smell in the saloon.
John had led the drunk man down the alleyway, where the drunk man stumbled and resisted him, but failed.
Jane followed them and leaned up against the wall. John held the man still and went through his pockets.
Struggling, the man tried to push John away. "Hey," he mumbled. "Those are mine."
"Sorry about it, buddy," John said, then knocked the guy out with a clean hit to his head with the butt of his gun.
He looked up, and noticed Jane standing there. "Hey there," He said. "How's it been going in there?"
She stood up straight. "Pretty good. Got a few bucks and some valuables."
John nodded. "Good. Why don't you bring another drunk feller out here? I'm gonna go see how Javier's doin'."
"Alright." The pair went back inside.
Jane spotted an intoxicated man that seemed to be trying to impress a woman. She didn't not look amused, though. Uncomfortable was the better word.
She made her way over, and grabbed him gently by the arm. "What do you say we go get some fresh air?"
The woman gave her a thankful smile. Jane returned it.
"I don't- I don't wanna go..." the man mumbled, but she dragged him away anyways. The man struggled against her grip, but she pulled him along out of the doors and down the little alley.
"Hey," he drunkenly yelled. "Get your hands off of me!" He was becoming an angry drunkard now.
She placed a hand on his shoulder and fished through his pockets.
"Stop!" He yelled, resisting her. Suddenly, he reeled his fist back and without warning, socked her in the face.
The blow knocked her backwards. She was dumbfounded as her hand flew to her face. Her cheekbone pulsed, and it was already swollen.
Now, an unruly anger filled her. She pulled out her gun, and like John did, hit him as hard as she could with the butt of it.
He fell to the ground, unconscious. Huffing, she searched his pockets.
There was only three dollars. All this work for nothing. She thought.
Sighing, she stood up and went back in the saloon. Javier and John were at the bar.
She leaned up against it, next to them.
"Geez," Javier said. "Where'd you get that bruise?"
She shrugged, not wanting them to worry. "Just a drunk man. Wasn't a big deal."
John looked at her. He was obviously concerned. "Where is he?"
Shaking her head, she said, "Don't worry, I knocked him out. Like I said, wasn't that big of a deal."
"If you say so." John stood up. "How about we head back?"
Javier and Jane nodded in agreement. "Sounds good to me," Javier said. "I need some sleep."
So, they all headed out, back towards camp. They barely talked in the cool night.
Jane's bruise throbbed, but she didn't say anything. She figured that she would just a cool rag or something when she got back to camp.
The fog began to roll in as they arrived. Most everyone was asleep, besides a few. Jane dismounted and headed over to the fire, where a few people stood.
"Well, gentleman, and Miss Jane, how'd it go?" Dutch asked.
John pressed a kiss to Abigail's forehead before turned to Dutch. "Pretty good. Obviously we can't make a bunch of money from a few drunkards, though. And Javier here won a few bucks from poker."
Dutch hummed in approval. "Well done."
Jane slipped off. She went over to Pearson's and grabbed a cloth, then dipped it in a cold water barrel.
It felt like heaven when she pressed it on her face. The cold of the rag battled the heat of the bruise.
"You alright there, Jane?" A gruff voice asked. She recognized it as Arthur's.
Concern crossed his face when she turned around, seeing that she was holding the rag to her face.
"Oh, hi Arthur," she said. "And yes, I'm fine."
He stepped closer to her. "What happened?"
"Just a little bruise. Nothing to worry about."
He didn't believe her. Placing his hand on her's, he forced her to lower the rag. "Holy shit, Jane. That's more than a bruise. The whole damn thing is swelled."
"It's not that bad," she protested.
He still hadn't removed his big, rough hand from hers dainty one. "Who did this?"
"Just some drunkard I was trying to rob."
He took the rag from her hand and dipped it back in the barrel. Turning back to her, he gently pressed it back on her face.
"Arthur, really, it's okay," Jane said.
He wasn't having it. "You're hurt. Let me take care of you."
"You wouldn't do this if it was John who had a bruise."
He was quiet for a moment. "Well, you're not John," he said after a minute. "You're Jane."
That sentence made her heart skip a beat. She grew aware of their closeness. They were mere inches away.
Arthur could have sworn he saw the tips of her ears grow red. You damn fool, he thought to himself. Always saying more than you should.
"Well, thank you," she said quietly.
He smiled. "Anytime, cowgirl."
Suddenly, she began giggling.
"What?" He said in fake annoyance.
"Just the thought of you taking care of John like this and gentle holding his face like you are."
He chuckled and rolled his eyes. "You're something."
She gave him a soft smile that made him feel something fierce inside. Their gazes' burned into the other, and the rest of world seemed to melt away.
But, there was another feeling inside Arthur. Stop it, you bastard, he thought. This woman is too soft, to gentle. I can't watch her crumble under the weight of my sins. You can't ruin another good thing.
Jane didn't know what she wanted. But she couldn't deny that she was disappointed when he took a deep breath and stepped away from her, placing the rag in her hand.
"I've... I need to go, uh, talk to Dutch-about our next move," he said awkwardly, rubbing his neck.
She nodded as she bit her lip to conceal smile at the man.
Arthur left her alone to think.
He was everything her father despised, but she didn't care. Her father wanted her to marry a rich man with an upright reputation. Arthur was an outlaw who lived from robbery to robbery.
But the real question was: how did she feel about him? Of course, he was one her closest friends, but was that all? He treated her so gently, cared for her so much, and talk to her more than anyone else. Jane found herself craving his presence when he wasn't near. Why?
She dipped the cloth into the barrel, confused. Why did everything have to be so complicated?
The night sky drew her attention as she made her way to her bed. The stars were shielded by a thick layer of clouds. She really hoped that it wouldn't rain, because the cloth coverings didn't give much shelter.
Mary-Beth was already asleep in her bed, so Jane followed her example.
As she laid in bed, she continued to think about her situation. Maybe, she thought, Maybe I'd be okay with the idea of me being sweet on Arthur. Her heart swelled at the idea of it, and she felt a slight blush creep to her face.
Arthur laid in his bed, staring at the canopy above him. What in the world am I doing? First Mary, now Jane? You damn fool, going and... falling for another woman when it's just gonna come and nip you in the rear again. Then again, Jane isn't anything like Mary. She doesn't care about her father's approval. But why would such a... lovely woman want anything to with me? A sour-faced, grumbly, old cowboy?
All the life in Jane's heart seemed to be squeezed out when she remembered Mary. Arthur really seemed to be in love with her, even after all these years. He even still had her picture by his bed. Why would he want me when he has Mary?
The two fell asleep at some point, thinking about the other, worrying about how they felt, and wishing that the other felt the same.
But, before Arthur went to sleep, he reached up and turned his picture of Mary face down.
~~~~
Jane sat on a stool in camp, drinking coffee. It was late morning. She had slept in later than she usually did.
It had been a week and a half since that night. Everyday, her feelings for him intensified, and it drove her crazy. They still talked some, but she was much more closed off than usual.
Her heart was full and empty at the same time. She couldn't quite explain it.
Arthur sat next to her, but they barely spoken so far.
"How's the bruise feel?" He asked.
"It's better."
He hummed and leaned back, as if he was expecting her to say more. "You okay?" He asked after a minute. "You seem... off."
She looked down at her coffee. "Yes, I'm fine," was all she said.
She could feel his gaze on her. "If you say so," he said.
Miss Grimshaw approached them. "Hello, Miss Jane," she said, then turned to Arthur, handing a letter. "You got this. It's from that Mary you used to be sweet on. Not worth your time, I'd say."
He looked at it in disbelief. "Mary?"
Jane's heart sunk. Definitely not over her.
"Yeah," Miss Grimshaw said. "Oh, don't go, Arthur. She's just gonna hurt you again."
Arthur shook his head. "We'll see. Well, thank you, Susan."
She nodded, then hurried off again.
Each crinkle of the letter seemed to drive a deeper stake into her heart. As he pulled the letter out to read it, she stood up, and without warning, walked off.
"Jane?" She heard Arthur call behind her, but she didn't turn back.
She found herself at the edge of camp, and sat on the rock ledge. Taking a deep breath of the morning wind, she tried to get ahold of herself.
You haven't even recognized your feelings for this man for that long, she thought, holding her hands in her lap. He has someone else that he loves. He's not gonna fall at your feet, she thought to herself. You're such a fool. It was a nice thought, though.
Arthur glanced to where Jane had gone. Why was she acting so strange? Shaking his head, he stood up, and headed to his horse. Mary wanted to talk to him, so he wanted to hear what she had to say.
Mounting his horse, he took another glance to where Jane sat. From here, he could see her sitting on a ledge, looking over the valley. Most, if not all, of him wanted to get off his horse and sit with her, but it sounded like Mary and her brother needed help.
Jane watched as he left camp, longing for him to stay with her. But, things aren't always how you want them to be.
~~~~
Arthur thought long and hard as he rode back into camp. He knew that Mary didn't still care for him. He knew that she was just using him. He also knew that Jane wouldn't do that.
Mary's brother, Jamie, has joined some religious cult, and so Mary called on him to save him. She played me like a damn fiddle, he thought, ticked off. Of course, he had helped her, as if expecting she would have changed, but she hadn't. Arthur wasn't even sure if he still wanted her.
He hitched his horse, and hopped off. Spotting Jane's thin figure still sitting on the edge of camp, he couldn't help but admire how majestic and serene she looked with the wind blowing her hair back, looking completely peaceful while looking over the valley.
Arthur stopped at his wagon, grabbing any pictures with Mary in it, then heading over to Jane. As he grew closer, he noticed that she had a book in her hands.
"Whatcha reading?"
She jumped, nearly falling off the cliff. "My goodness, Arthur. You scared me."
He chuckled. "Sorry," He said, sitting next to her.
She placed a pressed flower in her book, then closed it. "It's called Pride and Prejudice. It's pretty interesting."
He nodded. "I've never been much of a reader myself."
She sat the book next to her. "So, how did it go?" False enthusiasm was littered in her voice.
Shaking his head, he took his hat off and sat it beside him. "Taught me that I'm a damn fool, is all. She doesn't really want me. Just needed my help."
"I'm sorry," Jane said. Then, she noticed something sitting next to him. "What are those?"
He looked to where she was. Picking up the pictures and letter, he said, "Pictures with Mary and the letter I got from her. Guess I realized I don't need them anymore." Taking a deep breath, he held them over the cliff, and let them go. The plummeted down, and out of sight. Now, he was positive he didn't want Mary anymore.
Jane squeezed his shoulder, as if it were to him strength.
She went to bring it back down, but he placed a hand on hers, keeping it in place.
"You know, Jane, I've been doing some thinking."
Jane's heart sped up so much she was scared he would hear it.
Still holding her hand, he brought it down, and held it between his. "All those feelings I had for Mary, they were great and all, but they're gone now. You..." he paused, trying to put what he was feeling into words. "There was something about you when I first saw you in that train station."
Jane's whole being was on edge, analyzing every word and syllable he was saying.
"I can't quite explain what it is," he continued. "You make me feel things that haven't felt in a long time. You just... entrance me in ways I can't describe. But if I'm being completely honest, I think that I've been in love with you since you first said a word to me. I'm sorry it took me so damn long to realize it."
Jane was flabbergasted. He looked at her nervously, waiting to see what she would say.
Instead of saying anything, she just responded by kissing him.
He definitely wasn't expecting it, but that didn't mean that he didn't enjoy it. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him. One hand traveled to her neck, where his palm rested while his fingers were tangled in her hair. He breathed in her scent, which was sweet, like a mixture of cinnamon and vanilla.
Her hand cradled his face, his stubble softly prickling her. He smelled slightly of cigarette smoke and whiskey, but the stronger scent was hard to describe, like an oak tree or something forest-y.
They finally broke away after what seemed like an eternity, but was more like a few seconds. Their foreheads rested against each other as they caught their breath.
"I think I'm in love with you, too," she breathed.
He smiled bigger than she had ever seen him before, and he released a breathy laugh, then pulled her back for another kiss. Having her in his arms was the best feeling he'd ever had.
She wasn't that great of a kisser, but he didn't care. He figured she probably didn't have that much practice.
The shock had worn off a bit this time, so she was able to enjoy it a bit more.
They broke away again, still forehead-to-forehead.
After a moment, Jane broke the silence. "So, what now?"
"Well," He said slowly, his voice rough, "I guess you're mine now. And I'm yours. If you're okay with that."
She gave him a big grin, rubbing her thumb over his bottom lip. "I am more than okay with that."
He smiled and gave her another short kiss as John's voice rang out.
"It's about damn time."