For the next couple days, Jane would see John and Charles off in the morning, and anxiously wait for their return every night. And every time, they would come back empty handed. It was as if he had disappeared off the face of the earth.
Today, Charles and John sat next to her by the fire that was at the edge of camp. They were cautious that Dutch or Micah wouldn't overhear.
"I'm sorry, Jane." John said "We've been all over New Hanover and West Elizabeth, besides Blackwater, of course. There's no sign of him."
"That doesn't mean we're going to stop looking," Charles cut in. "We'll go back into the mountains if we need to."
Jane just sighed and sipped on her coffee. She didn't realize how much coffee she drank until Abigail pointed it out to her the other day. But it helped calm her. Better than smoking, I suppose.
"Thank you, you two. Really." Jane gave them a small smile, which was the first she'd given in days.
"Arthur's strong," John said. "Probably the strongest out of all of us. If anyone would be fine, it'd be him."
Jane pulled her shawl around her shoulders. It was slightly chilly that night.
Her heart ached for Arthur. Sure they had some issues, but that didn't mean she didn't love him. His bed felt cold and empty without him.
She wasn't an extremely religious person, but she had enough faith to say a silent prayer every night, asking for his safe return. Along with the plea, she would curse the men that took him.
Then, a small figure stood next to John. Abigail soon came next to him. "John, Jack wanted to say goodnight."
"Goodnight, Pa," Jack said, which made John tense up.
"Err, goodnight, Jack."
"Goodnight, Jack," Jane said, much more smoothly than John.
"Goodnight, auntie Jane. Where's uncle Arthur?"
Jane's breath caught in her throat. "He's uh..."
"He's on a trip right now," Charles said, which seemed to satisfy Jack.
"When will he be back?" Jack's innocence seemed to make Jane's heart fall deeper and deeper into the darkness.
"We're not sure. But soon." Charles steady voice seemed convincing enough, and almost convinced Jane herself.
"Alright, Jack, come on now. Time for bed."
Abigail grabbed his hand, leading him to their tent.
"I think that's my cue to head to bed too," Charles said, standing up.
"Me too," she said, taking Charles outstretched hand. He pulled her to her feet, and they both said goodnight to John.
Back at Arthur and her's shared tent, she sat on their cot.
She kicked her shoes off and was about to put the lantern out, but noticed a book sitting on the table. It was leather with a strap around it and seemed decently worn.
Carefully picking it up, she was curious about its contents. Was it a book? She thought. It doesn't have a title.
She gingerly undid the strap, and opened it. Inside, there was writing and pictures. It looked like Arthur's handwriting.
Is this... Arthur's journal?
Quickly, she shut it. Who am I to be rooting through his things? But, she thought, I may never see him again.
And so, the curiosity won. She slowly opened it back up, and started to read the entries.
"Headed into Valentine with Uncle and the girls. Girls went scouting out work while Uncle and I had a few drinks and he explained more of his theories on existence and bare faced lies about his past."
Next to it, there were very impressive drawings of Uncle, Mary-Beth, Karen, and Tilly.
There were many entries, with one almost every day. A realistic drawing was pair with most of them.
Then there was an entry about the day he robbed the train she was on.
"Lenny and I went to rob a train today. Met a woman who was going to get married off. Turned crazy and shot a guard, but I can't blame her. She wanted freedom from her family. Jumped off the train with us, but couldn't swim. Had to get her out. Seems like a strange woman, but brave nonetheless. Guess we'll see where time takes her."
Then, there was an entry from the day she got shot, and the day he told her how he felt.
"Can't tell if I'm brave or a fool. They usually go hand in hand. Told Jane how I felt, and she responded but kissing me. Kissing me! Why would she like an ugly, damned man like me? But I'm thankful, nonetheless. Still can't shake the feeling that I will make a fool of myself once again."
Next to it, there was a drawing of Jane. It was breathtaking, and it make her feel heat rise to her cheeks.
"Guess I really am damned. Found out I got TB. Can't deny I'm scared, but I can't let Jane know that. A lady said she could help us, but I'm wary of it. Seems like a lunatic to me. I can't bare to think of what Jane will do once I'm gone. Stay with the gang? Go to some other man?"
Jane's heart hurt at these words. He really was scared, but he didn't want to tell her. If only he would trust Marley.
The latest entry was from the day before he was kidnapped.
"Jane's been seeming a bit off lately. We've been bickering more than usual, and she says she doesn't know what she wants. I might be insane, but I'm thinking of proposing."
Jane's eyes went wide at that. Proposing? That's the last thing I'd expect from him.
Nonetheless, she continued reading.
"Hoping it'll sort of fix things. I wouldn't mind be married to her- It'd probably be nice. All I know is that I'm running out of time."
She was conflicted at this. Obviously she wanted to give Arthur a full life if the TB did claim him, but they were so close to a cure. And she didn't want to try and have a family in the outlaw life.
It also seemed like he wanted to propose to mend things between them, not because he actually wanted to marry her.
Chances were, though, that he wouldn't even have the chance to anymore.
She closed the journal and set it down, missing Arthur, but confused all the same.
~~~~
Two days later, Jane had began to lose hope that Arthur would ever come back. It wasn't likely that he was alive either. The whole camp seemed to be weighed down by the loss.
Jane started crying less and less. Instead, she felt as if she was dried out, and there was nothing left for her to feel.
Abigail and Hosea sat with her most of the days, and they would talk about anything and everything. The day prior, Abigail had cut Jane's hair to her armpit after she had somehow gotten gum in it. Jane had wanted it gone anyways, so she wasn't upset.
John and Charles were the ones she spent the evening with, talking about where Arthur could possibly be. As the days went on, however, there was less and less to talk about.
That night, the four, along with Jack, sat around the fire. They were making small talk about Dutch's plans in Rhodes.
The Grays and The Braithwaites were both still being fooled, but they all had the feeling it wouldn't last for much longer. It was only a matter of time before they realized they were being played.
"I just think we need to go way far out west, where it's less civilized, and buy some property. Do honest work with honest jobs, and just live," Charles said as he sharpened his knife.
"I agree," John said. "But we all know that ain't gonna happen. Dutch ain't the type."
Abigail sighed. "It's a nice thought, though."
Jane was silent through this. She was drinking her usual cup of coffee. It was the only thing fueling her at this point. She barely had proper meals.
She had even lost a bit of weight since Arthur left. From the worry. Not a huge amount, but enough to notice.
Abigail and Hosea had took notice of it, and beckoned her to eat during the day.
Jane finished the last of the coffee, and went to fill it back up. Before she could pour it, there was a yell. It came from the main entrance of camp.
The group exchanged a look before they rushed to the commotion. There was a few people and it seemed to be urgent.
Jane pushes her way through and was shocked by what she saw.
Arthur laid on the ground. He was alive, but barely.
She rushed to his side, cradling his head on her lap and stroking his face.
"Arthur? You're alive!" A drop landed on his face, and she realized that it was her own tear.
People around them were fussing and calling for help, but they paid them no mind.
He was slipping in and out of consciousness. "You can't get rid of me that easily," he groaned, chuckling, but obviously in pain.
It was then that she realized that he had a wound his left shoulder.
"Oh, my Lord. He's been shot," she called to everyone. "He's been shot..." she said quieter as a few people lifted him up, resulting in a groan from Arthur and a string of mumbled curses.
A few of the men carried him over to his cot, with the woman fussing around them. Hosea guided Jane over, who was still in a state of shock.
"I told you it was a set up, Dutch," Arthur groaned.
"I know, son, I know. But you are safe now, Arthur. You are safe with us," Dutch said as they laid him on the cot.
"Ain't that pretty, Dutch. Ain't that pretty..." Arthur said, slipping back into an unconscious state.
"Mr. Pearson, Ms. Grimshaw, get some supplies," Dutch ordered. "We need to treat his wound immediately."
They rushed around, leaving others to disperse or stand uselessly around.
Jane snapped out of her trance-like state and rushed to his side.
He was dressed in red long-johns, or pajamas, something he never wore. His beard was overgrown. It was much longer than the usual stubble he kept it at.
His wound appeared as if there was wax on it, and she couldn't help but wonder what exactly happened to him.
She couldn't ask him though, because he had passed out again and the three were about to dress his wound.
A pair of gentle hands grabbed her shoulders and pulled her to her feet, leading her away from the wagon. Hosea released her and wrapped her in a blanket. The night had chilled substantially.
"Are you alright?" Hoses asked.
Jane pulled the blanket tightly around her. "I think so. I mean... yeah. He's home. It's just upsetting to see the state he's in."
He hummed. "I can imagine."
Then Abigail came strolling over. She was with Jack, but came to see what the commotion was.
"Arthur's returned," Hosea said bluntly. "Barely alive, but still in one piece."
"Really?" Abigail said in an upbeat tone. "That's great news!"
Jane smiled, but she longed to be by Arthur's side.
Hosea and Abigail comforted her while the others dealt with Arthur. They tried to distract her, but they couldn't keep her from continuously glancing over to him, checking to see if he was alright. It took about half an hour for them to finish.
After they finished cleaning his wound and patched him up, Jane was allowed to be with him again.
He was still unconscious, but he was more asleep than knocked out. His breathing was deep and even, and his heartbeat was steady.
Jane washed his face and hands, and shaved his raggedy beard for him. She put thick socks on his bare feet, and then put a blanket on him. The night was cold, and after all of this, the last thing he needed was to catch his death by cold.
She slept on the ground next to him. She didn't was to hurt his shoulder or take up his space.
But she didn't mind. He was home and that was all that mattered.
~~~~
The following morning, Arthur was still sleeping. The camp was buzzing, passing the news of Arthur's arrival to those who somehow slept through it.
Jane's body was sore from laying on the ground during the night. Now, she sat against the edge of the bed, "resting her eyes." Sleep had not been kind to her last night. She was awake more than she was asleep, due to her concern that Arthur was still breathing.
The ground was hard beneath her, as the blanket didn't provide much padding.
Her eyes shot open when she heard someone approaching her. It was John, and he held two cups of coffee.
"How are you holding up?" He asked, handing Jane one of the cups.
"Thank you, and I'm okay. Tired as hell, but okay."
John nodded and looked at Arthur. "How's he?"
She glanced at him. "Good, I suppose. Been sleeping for a while."
"I can't believe he just showed up out of the blue like that. I wonder what happened."
The coffee warmed up her senses as she sipped it. "I know. I thought he was never coming back, but I guess we can ask him when he gets up."
"I guess so. But I gotta run into town for a few things for Abigail- don't ask. Hopefully he'll be up by the time I get back."
"Hopefully," Jane said as John trotted off, leaving her to fall back asleep.
It was sickeningly hot. Sweat dripped from her face, her eyes, her fingertips, and she could feel it crawling down her neck onto her back.
She went to swat the sweat away, but she discovered that her hands were tied down, along with the rest of her.
In front of her, was her father with a solemn look on her face. "I'm doing this for you," he said in a chilling voice. Next to him was Arthur tied up.
Jane started struggling, but her mother was next to her. "Calm down. Just show some trust."
Her father jumped up on a horse and began dragging Arthur behind him.
Arthur struggled, and was trying to stand up, just to be pulled back down again.
Jane began rocking the whole chair in an attempt to free herself. She yelled protests, but they didn't help.
Suddenly, her father stopped and Arthur stood, rushing to him. Instead of punching to shooting him, he coughed blood in his face. At this, her father pulled out a gun and shot him in the left shoulder.
Jane screamed, and her father ran off. Her bonds were cut, and she ran to him.
By the time she got there, he was convulsing. His pale face was contrasted with his red eyes. It was a clear sign that TB was thriving in his body. He was spitting up blood with every cough.
Before Jane could sit him up, he stopped moving.
A scream ripped from her mouth when she realized he was dead.
She was only pulled out of the nightmare when a warm hand rested on her shoulder. "Jane... what's wrong," groaned a voice.
She snapped awake, and nearly started crying when she realized it was only a dream. Her breathing was ragged, and she felt adrenaline pumping throughout her.
"Jane..." Arthur said, a bit clearer this time. "What... was it?"
At realizing that he was awake, Jane spun to him and shot up to her feet.
"Arthur! You're awake. How are you feeling?" She leaned over him, placing a hand on his cheek and feeling his forehead.
"I'm... okay. Are you?" He tried to push himself up. When he winced, she helped him sit up.
"Yes. Just a dream," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed, faced towards him with her feet on the ground.
He took a deep breath and released it shakily. "You're hair's shorter."
Jane almost laughed at that. Here he was, having gone through hell and back, and he was worried about her haircut?
"Yes," she said. "I got gum in it."
He chuckled, but winced. "Only you."
She smiled, but then took on a more serious demeanor. "So what all happened? John and Charles searched all over this and a couple surrounding states for you, and found nothing."
"Well," he started, "I'm guessing you heard from Dutch that we went to meet up with with Colm. I thought it was a bad idea from the start, but Dutch wanted me to. Then a guy jumped me from behind and knocked me out. Kidnapped me and took me to the O'Driscoll headquarters. Nearly escaped before we got there but they caught me. That's where I got this gunshot from. Then they hung me upside down and Colm tried to get information out of me. I managed to get down and cauterize my shoulder. Grabbed my guns and snuck out, but it was Maple that got me home."
Jane was speechless. He really had been to hell and back. "How in the world did you survive that?"
"I guess it was the thought of you that drove me home."
Jane smiled, but it quickly dropped. "I'm glad you home and safe, but why didn't you tell me before you left that morning? I had went out, and I came back to camp and you were missing, with only Dutch and Micah able to explain your absence."
"Well, I'm sorry, Jane. Guess it just slipped my mind. It wasn't exactly my choice to get kidnapped," Arthur said roughly, slightly thrown off.
"I didn't even get to say goodbye," Jane said softly, her voice softly trembling. "You were missing for week. I didn't where you were, if you were even alive. I thought I would never see you again and I didn't even have to chance to say goodbye. Do you know what that did to me?"
Arthur was silent for a moment, his face unreadable. "So you're saying this is my fault."
"No," Jane said quickly. "I'm just... telling you how I feel."
Arthur grunted, and they sat in silence for a few moments.
Arthur's antics of turning everything the wrong way was beginning to be tiresome to Jane.
As if he could read her mind, he sighed. "I'm sorry, Jane. I know what you're saying. I... I should have told you where I was going."
Jane smiled and placed her hand on his. "I'm glad you home, Arthur."
"Me too, cowgirl. Me too."