"John was looking for you," Miss Grimshaw said the next morning as I tried to drown my hangover using coffee.
"He was? Thanks," I said to her before calling out to Dutch, "Don't you worry, Micah escaped without a noose being tied around his neck this time."
"Thank you, Ann," he nodded at me as I went to find John.
"What do you want?" I asked as soon as I saw him.
"Uncle told me something about a train," he said, "He said Mary-Beth heard something about a train full of rich folk, rolling down through Scarlet Meadows."
"Yes," I said.
"You need help with it?" He asked.
"I ain't even sure about doing it," I said, backing up.
"Come on," John said, "At night, not too guarded, it's perfect!"
"I ain't thought it through," I said, scratching my head, "You know, stopping a train. Pain in the ass."
"Sure, but what if we could force a train to stop?" He asked me. "We get a wagon full of something flammable. Oil. Put it on the tracks. They see it, they know they either have to stop or die. Ain't no train driver wants to be cooked alive."
"That is... kinda brilliant," I said, grinning.
"So, we doing it?" He asked.
"Yeah, we're gonna need ammunition, guns... look real frightening, and some dynamite to open up the train," I told him.
"I'll get the supplies, you get the oil," John said, "Leave it at that old abandoned shack, just north of Dewberry Creek."
That I did. I knew exactly where to get the oil, from Leviticus Cornwall's oil refinery, and it was easy enough to steal. I just waited for a wagon to leave, dealt with the two men riding it, and left it at the correct place. Piece of cake.
I let the horses free once I ditched it and stared at my work, pretty impressed at how smoothly it went. I let John know the wagon was there, and we decided to let Charles and Arthur in on the plan. We needed manpower, and they were the two most trustworthy in our eyes.
"Meet us there tomorrow night," John said, leaving to talk with Charles as I stood with Arthur.
"Hey, Arthur?" Abigail called him, "Would you... do something with Jack?"
"Me? Why not his father?" he asked, an eyebrow raised.
"He likes you," she replied and I gave a small laugh, "Please."
"Sure, why not," Arthur nodded but Strauss approached us then.
"Ah, Herr Morgan, how did you get on?" Strauss asked Arthur.
"Called in on both of them," Arthur replied, a slightly annoyed look on his face, "That Wróbel? Didn't even speak English."
"Good, very good," Strauss said and I pulled a disgusted face.
"My pleasure," he shrugged.
"Well, if its pleasure you're after," Strauss said, "There is one other... this farmer, preacher feller who I met in Valentine. Mr Downes."
"Yeah, I recognise the name," Arthur said.
"Thank you, Herr Morgan," Arthur nodded at him as Strauss grabbed a bowl of stew from Pearson's concoction, "He's slippery, I've tried being polite. If he doesn't have the money, beat him."
Strauss left and I saw Arthur looking conflicted. He glanced at Jack and I understood, Strauss' matters were time-sensitive, but he'd just agreed to help Abigail.
"I'll deal with Downes, go do something with Jack," I told him, stretching.
"Nah, you hate the money lending business," he argued.
"I can do it this once," I laughed slightly, "The boy is bored, and I ain't good with kids. I don't mind helping you out once if you're gonna make the boy happy."
"Thank you, Ann," he gave me a quick squeeze before heading for Jack, "Jackie! How do you fancy going fishing?"
I grinned after him before heading for Roach. Money-lending, the one crime I detested and it wasn't even illegal. But I wanted to help Arthur out, so I had to suck it up.
I rode out to the small farmhouse outside of Valentine, Mr Downes was tending to his crops.
"You. Uh, what do you want?" He asked as I approached.
I let myself into his fenced garden and stared at him.
"Mr Downes, you owe me money," I said simply.
"Oh, no, I'm... I-I..." I stopped him.
"We ain't a charity, Mr Downes," I said, ready to knock the rake he was holding up away from him.
Thank goodness, as he prepared to swing. I knocked it away swiftly and grabbed the man.
"Really? Threaten me, would you?" I asked.
"Please, I have a family, please!" He begged as I threw him down.
"I don't care about your family," I said, kicking him.
"Mr Strauss seemed so understanding," he said, scurrying away from my feet.
"Why'd it have to come to this?" I asked him.
"Believe me, I didn't want this either!" He said as I advanced again.
I punched him again before picking him up and pushing him up against the fence.
"You borrowed money from my business partner Herr Strauss," I said, holding him tight, "You owe him. You took the money. He wants it back. What's not to understand?"
He coughed suddenly, blood splattering my face. This was a sick man, no doubt about it. I wiped it off but paid no heed. If there was one thing Arthur taught me about this business, is it was useless to feel any sympathy for them. You were there for the money.
"Where's our money?" I demanded.
"I don't have it," he said.
"Sell your place," I said, nodding towards the house.
"We already owe more than it's worth," he said.
"Then sell your wife, your family, something!" I cried, "We ain't your idea of a charity!"
He coughed again and I let him fall with a sigh.
"Thomas!" I assumed Mrs Downes and the son had come running to the scene, but I was over it.
"What are you looking at?" I asked her as she ran towards me.
"My husband isn't well!" She said, "If we could just have more..."
"Like I said, we ain't nobody's idea of a charity," I said, walking away, "Get us the money!"
To be honest, the whole money lending business disgusted me. But these were desperate times and we needed the money if we were going to get out, so it was no time to be sympathetic.
I walked towards Strauss back at camp, cursing myself.
"Ah, how did you get on?" he asked me, "I overheard you say to Mr Morgan that you'd do it."
"Not good," I sighed, "He's almost dead. They seem more or less destitute. You were a fool for lending them the money."
"Well, people who aren't desperate, don't seem so interested in my propositions," he said and I felt sick.
"Of course," I walked away, shaking my head.
"Ann, a word," Dutch called me over and I obliged, a frown on my face.
"Something wrong?" I questioned.
"No, I just feel like we ain't spoken much, one on one, recently," he leant back in his chair.
"Well, what do you wanna speak about?" I asked, an eyebrow raised.
"The boys in camp," he paused, "Is there anyone you... like?"
I stared at him, an incredulous look on my face. He wasn't really trying to have that conversation?
"It's an honest question," he raised his hands, "Because if you do, I feel that, as the man who raised you, I need to have some idea of it. I don't want you getting hurt."
A laugh finally exploded from my mouth as I stared at him, and his eyes narrowed.
"Is my caring funny to you, Ann?" he asked, a dangerous look on his face.
"Of course not, Dutch, I appreciate you looking out for me, you're like a father to me," I laughed slightly again, "It's just this whole conversation. Who would I even fancy in camp?"
"Well," he frowned, "Obviously men like Bill and Arthur are too old, or at least I hope you agree with that. What about Lenny... or Sean? You don't have any feelings there?"
I tried not to laugh again.
"Even if I did, which I don't," I told him, "Lenny liked Jenny, as well you know. And surely you heard Sean with Karen the night of his return..."
I pulled a face and Dutch laughed at me.
"Don't you go acting all innocent," he said.
"Well, I would be 'all innocent' if you ever remembered my tent is right beside you and Miss O'Shea, and unfortunately I can hear every little thing that goes on," I jumped back before he could clip me over the head, his mouth agape.
"Well..." he cleared his throat awkwardly, "I get the sense that you're hinting to me we should leave this conversation alone. Though I can't say I'm not relieved you don't like anyone."
"Dutch, let's not dig this hole any deeper," I warned with a laugh as he looked rather sheepish.
I was still talking with Dutch when Arthur returned, a worried look on his face.
"We got a problem," Arthur said and we looked at him.
"What?" Dutch asked.
"I just met some guys out near the river," Arthur said quickly, "A feller named Milton and er... Ross."
"And?"
"And they are employees of the Pinkerton Detective Agency," Arthur said, "And they know about the train and they know we're here."
"Were you followed back here?" Dutch stood up angrily as my eyes widened.
"No, they know we're near here," Arthur held his hands up, "And they want you, Dutch. They offered me my freedom in exchange, they did."
"Why didn't you take it?" he asked, not looking at either of us.
"Very funny," Arthur said, "But what do we do now?"
"I say we do nothing," he said after a pause, "Just yet. 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."
With that he left us, but he looked troubled. I glanced at Arthur who mirrored my expression. They'd found us despite our route through the mountains, would we ever escape them?
"I'm gonna go hunting," I sighed, "Hopefully I don't run into any Pinkertons, but... is Dutch sure?"
"We ain't got room to argue," Arthur shifted uncomfortably, "We'll be fine. Trust him."
I nodded hesitantly before heading to Roach. Was this really wise?
I headed near Strawberry to hunt, to the slightly less populated mountainous area. I was hoping for some decent game to catch, but that was abandoned pretty quickly.
"Excuse me, wait!" I heard a yell and pulled Roach to a halt, turning on the saddle with my hand going to my holster.
A man, perhaps a few years older than me, was running towards me. Limping, more accurately. He had blood on his forehead, his clothes were ripped and dirty and he had a look of pure fear on his face. I looked behind him to see a group of men on horses charging, their guns out, sinister looks on their faces.
"Here," I offered him a hand and pulled him up behind me, "Let's go."
I pushed Roach on, yelling encouragement while shooting behind me. I didn't know who this man was, but I knew enough to know the men chasing him were not the good guys. I knocked a few of their horses while making some distance between us, heading straight for the trees.
"I think... I think we lost them," the man behind me gasped and I turned, sure enough, he was right.
"So, the hell was that?" I asked, helping him dismount Roach.
He collapsed as his leg hit the ground, groaning in pain. I dismounted quickly, grabbing some bandages from my satchel as I did so, kneeling down beside the man.
"That looks nasty," I said as I examined his leg.
A bullet had torn through his lower leg, leaving him unable to walk and losing a lot of blood.
"I'll be fine... I just need to get to the base of Mount Shann, where my people are camped," he gasped, trying to stand.
"I don't think so," I gave a small laugh, forcing him down, "We'll camp here tonight, it's getting too dark to travel. I'll heal you up and in the morning, I'll help you back to your family. But right now, you need to let me look at this leg, else its gonna get infected."
He relented, sitting back on his haunches and letting me examine the bloody injury. He hissed in pain as I tried my best to clean the blood, but was silent otherwise as I bandaged it up tightly.
"Now, I ain't no doctor, but that should last you until you can get some proper help," I smiled at him, "Are you gonna tell me what the hell that was?"
"Laramie Gang," he groaned as I started making up a campfire, "They ain't huge fans of me and my folk. We're on their territory, apparently. I was out hunting, bunch of 'em recognised me and... well, I was lucky you came along."
"You're one of the few," I laughed, "Laramie Gang? I ain't heard of them before. Nasty folk, from the sounds of things."
"Tell me about it," he sighed, "I can't wait until we leave this hellhole. We're settlers, my family. There's maybe fifteen of us in all, we're trying to make it to California, but it's been a long time. The name's Emil Ackermann."
"Nice to meet you, Emil," I said, "I'm Ann. Ann Wright."
"Thank you, Ann," he sighed, leaning back, "I'd have been a goner without you."
"I ain't gonna argue with you there," I grinned, poking at the fire until it sparked, "You hungry? I was hunting earlier, got some stuff to cook."
"You've done so much already..." he began but I cut him off.
"Nah, its fine," I shrugged, pulling the wrapped meat out of my satchel, "All the crap I've done, I should do a good thing now and again."
"Thank you," he said, his voice earnest, "Genuinely."
"I'll cook this up, then you can get some rest for a few hours. I'll keep watch, make sure those Lara-whatever don't come looking for blood," I told him, "We'll get you home in the morning."
I kept my word, not sleeping a wink for the next few hours until the sun rose. I made coffee, offering it to Emil when he woke.
"How's the leg?" I asked, handing him a mug as he sat.
"Been better," he groaned, taking it gratefully, "You don't have to do this, you know."
"I'm happy to help," I smiled, "But we should get you to your family, they can make sure that leg is proper looked after. Then, get yourselves outta here, before those Laramie boys come back for blood. I definitely took out a few of them last night, they won't be happy."
He directed me to the camp just south of where we were, at the base of Mount Shann. The atmosphere reminded me a lot of my gang, people were bustling about doing chores, tents were set up, campfires where people congregated to tell stories.
And, when I rode in, concerned faces surrounded Roach the moment Emil was spotted.
I helped him down, taking him into the centre of camp where his folk congregated around him, asking him questions, noticing his injury.
"I'll leave you to it, then, Emil," I smiled, heading back to Roach.
"Please, stay for a while..." he said, "I'm so grateful to you. Let me do something in return!"
"Nah, I don't want anything," I smiled, "If you're still here in a few days, I might come pay you a visit. But I got my own folk to get back to, so I'll leave you now."
"Thank you again, Ann," he said, "I owe you."
I tipped my hat at him and his family, before mounting Roach and riding away.
That night, I headed with Arthur to where we were to meet John and Charles. Unfortunately, Sean was there first.
"Let me come on the raid with yous," he said as soon as he saw us.
"Raid?" I asked.
"Don't be playing coy with me, girl, its unbecoming," he said, "That bloody train you and him has set up. What you're doing out here, you're gonna need guns and men."
"Oh, that," I said, "So Marston told you? It ain't a big show, I need calmness. If I take you, I might as well bring Micah along."
"Compare me to that oily turd again and you're a dead woman," he warned and Arthur let out a laugh.
"Yeah, sure," I sighed as John and Charles appeared.
"What are you doing here, kid?" John asked him.
"I'm on the job," Sean replied brightly.
"I said you weren't coming," John warned.
"Yeah, well Ann says I am," he replied, "And its her party, boyo, so come on, lets go."
He climbed onto the wagon leaving John to stare at me, dumbfounded, but I just shrugged. It was too late now.
"You sure about this?" John whispered.
"No," I sighed, "Are we ready?"
"Yeah, trains due through tonight," John said.
"Great, let's go," I said, as John took up the reigns and drove us to our spot.
We stopped the wagon over the track and pulled our masks on, letting the horses loose. I told the others to hide while I made sure the train stopped.
"What are you doing?" Arthur asked as I climbed onto the wagon, winking at him.
"Oh, its do or die with you, isn't it?" Sean sounded impressed.
"Hurry up," I warned him as the sound of the train came closer.
I stood on top, waving my guns as the train lights approached. John had discovered that the guards got picked up at the state line, so it would be fairly unprotected.
I just hoped they stopped in time, or I was toast.
The horn was blasting and the train screeched to a halt inches before the wagon. I jumped off as Charles knocked out the driver. It was time to act.
"Remember, these are innocent folks," I said as we convened, "Nobody needs to die if we do it right."
"I cleared the guards in this carriage, its all yours," Sean said, "I'll go up ahead."
John and I stepped into the carriage, John with the bag and me with the gun. Every time someone was unwilling to hand over cash, I stepped in. Let's just say, they all donated something. Arthur was in the carriage ahead, dealing with the folk in it while Sean was at the luggage carriage.
"Go check on Sean. I've got this," John said, and I obliged. If anyone needed help, it would be him.
Sean had just opened the back carriage when I appeared, and he was knocked down by another guard. I raised my gun and let off a shot, hitting the guard on the shoulder before he could hit Sean.
More came from inside that carriage as Sean and I took cover, but we were more prepared than they were. Once it seemed they were all dealt with, we stood up.
"This time, I'll look and you provide the cover," I said, exasperated.
"I'll try, but I'm seeing double here," he said.
"Gives you twice the chance of hitting someone," I mocked, stepping into the carriage.
I looked through all the baggage racks, taking any valuables and cash that I could see. My pockets were feeling quite heavy when there was a shout.
"Ann, we got a problem," Sean said, "Two arseholes on horses."
"How many?" I asked.
"I just see the two," he said.
"Then, we're fighting," I whispered, "Marston, Smith, Morgan, get ready."
We stared from cover at the approaching figures.
"You need to come off the train," one voice called, "Right now."
"There's only two of you, you fools," Arthur called back, "We got a whole lot less to lose. Why don't the two of you ride away?"
"There's a few more turning up," Sean whispered and I cursed.
"You and your big mouth, Morgan," I sighed, "Okay, lets deal with them."
We were all hidden, and leapt up simultaneously to gun down the lawmen.
"Shit, more are coming!" called Sean as we sprayed bullets.
"We need to find an opportunity to get out!" John yelled and we called our horses.
"Let's go!" I yelled when we were all mounted up, we rode until the law lost sight of us, which wasn't long under cover of darkness.
"That was fun, real fun," Sean laughed as I tossed everyone their share.
We made about a hundred dollars each, which was a tidy take. But not enough, we still needed more if we were to get out.
"Was that a setup?" John asked, "Law turned up real fast."
"I don't know," Arthur sighed, "I don't think so. I'm starting to get nervous. We should all go it alone right now, don't go straight to camp."
We nodded at one another and took off. I was as nervous as Arthur, it seemed an awful coincidence that the law was so quick to react. But there was no point pondering on it too long, there was always going to be unlucky coincidences.
A few days later, once the heat was off us, I returned to camp. In return, Dutch dragged me straight back into Valentine to have a drink with him. I didn't argue, he had been worried due to my disappearance and my goal was to make him significantly less so.
"I've asked Arthur to meet us here, but he's taking his goddamn time," Dutch sighed after looking at his pocket watch for the hundredth time.
"You know Arthur, he's probably doing something rash or irresponsible," I said, giving him a grin.
"Oh Ann, you really can't talk there," he put his watch down, laughing at me.
"Excuse me, when have I ever done anything rash or irresponsible?" I asked, pouring myself yet another drink.
"I have a list. It's alphabetised," he rolled his eyes at my expression.
"Good one," I scoffed, shaking my head, "Why do you always attack me with your words?"
"What, do you want him to use rocks?" Arthur's voice interrupted our conversation and I turned around, shooting daggers at him.
Arthur and John had walked into the small saloon, Arthur's face was the only thing that stopped me from making a retort. I raised my eyebrows at John but he just shrugged, a small grin playing on his face.
"Where have you been?" Dutch demanded.
"Working," he said, "John's thing. We were... rounding up some sheep for sale."
"Good, sit down," Dutch said, "Ann, go with John, make sure you get the payment."
I muttered under my breath as I stood but did as I was told. Of course, Arthur now gets to sit on his backside and drink while I have to go out with Marston. If I'd known that was my fate, I would have told Dutch to go drinking by himself.
"Johnny boy," I said as we stepped outside, "How's the scars?"
"Getting better, I guess," he shrugged, "Now that folks have stopped ripping me a new one about them."
"Oh, my friend, you deserved that and more," I laughed, "Honestly, Jack is braver than you when he hurts himself."
"Oh, very funny, Ann Wright," he muttered angrily, "Just because I do as I'm told, but you lie straight to Dutch's face and say Hosea said you could do jobs again."
"I do what I want, Johnny," I laughed.
"Alright, I'm telling Hosea," he smirked.
"Hey, w-wait," I said quickly, causing him to guffaw.
"You really are easy to wind up," the boyish grin was upon his face yet again and I scowled.
"Where are these sheep then?" I asked, wanting to end my time with John as quickly as possible.
"Hold it right there," I felt a cool metal press against my temple, "You're Van der Linde's people, aren't you?"
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