We rode a bit away from camp to the creek, Hosea and Dutch reminiscing about old times the whole ride. I did miss the days where it was just us, but times were changing. We would never had survived with just the four of us.
"Hey, looks like law up ahead," Dutch said, "Play it cool."
We rode up behind them and, to our surprise, Trelawny was in the back of the wagon.
"I seem to have got myself into a spot of bother," Trelawny said to us and I shook my head. Trelawny always appeared in the strangest of places.
"Let's see if we can't sort this out," Dutch said before addressing the lawmen, "How are you boys?"
"Fine," the older of the two spoke.
"This is quite some country you have here," Dutch commented.
"We like it well enough," he said.
"Hoagy Macintosh, at your service," I fought the laugh that threatened to break out. Hoagy?
I saw Arthur's shoulders shaking and avoided looking at him, knowing he'd set me off too.
"Leigh Gray, this is my deputy, Archibald Macgregor," Gray said, Dutch had pulled him in, "You a Scot?"
"Partly," said Dutch, "The best part!"
Gray laughed at that, but I noticed the other prisoners in the wagon were picking the lock to get out of the cage.
"Now, tell me, sir, what did the silly fancy fop back there do?" Dutch continued, as I stared at the men. Hosea gave me a look that told me to shut my mouth, what was that man planning?
"He was accused of running a gold mining investment scam," Gray said.
"Oh, no no no," Dutch said, "I'm sure he wasn't. He is a magician, I know him! He's a fool, but he is not a bad feller!"
The door swung open and the four other captives burst out, so I stared as they ran. Not my problem.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you!" Trelawny called after them.
"Shit, the Anderson boys!" Sheriff Gray said, "I can't have more scandal."
"Well, allow us to help, my friend," the deputy was running after them as Dutch spoke, but they had successfully jumped onto the passing train, "Ann?"
"Chase wanted men?" I asked, moving forward on Roach.
"And take Archibald with you," Dutch told me so I picked him up and we cantered after the train.
"Do not shoot them, you hear me?" Archibald warned, "We're losing them!"
"Calm down, we ain't losing them," I said, if anything we were gaining on them.
"What's your name?" He asked.
"Ann Callahan," I replied quickly.
"Get to that flat carriage! You think you can jump on there?" He called.
"Me? Why me?" I asked.
"Because you ride like my grandmother," I bit my tongue to stop the snarky remark and threw myself at the train.
I hit the carriage with a thump and groaned in pain, picking myself up. The first Anderson was on me in a flash, pinning me down again, my head hanging off the side of the train.
I kicked up, causing him to lose balance, and he flew off the side. I glanced and saw he was unconscious, so I ran to the others.
One was in the carriage in front, running as fast as he could. I followed him up on top of the carriage roof, where he was waiting to fight me.
We ran at each other, but I quickly dodged out the way and let my foot trip him up, causing him to land face-first on the roof. I pounced on him, hitting him a few times until he passed out.
The third one was equally easy, but the last one drew a knife on me.
"Let me go!" He yelled but I shook my head and advanced on him. I had to get him to drop the knife.
I blocked his first few attacks with my arm against his forearm, but eventually, he cut my cheek. I yelled in anger and lashed out, causing the knife to fly. I didn't let him get a hit in, eventually overpowering him and allowing me to hogtie him.
I threw open the carriage door of the now stopped train and threw him on the ground in front of Archibald.
"Sounded like quite a commotion," he said, "Is that him?"
"I hope so," I said as he picked him up.
"Old Anders Anderson," he grinned as I felt the cut on my face. No more mocking John for his battle scars, it seemed, "A fine job, well done."
Archibald had apparently found his own horse and placed Anderson on the back, while I mounted Roach.
"I imagine your friends will be in Rhodes with the Sheriff," he told me, "Let's ride."
"What about the others?" I asked.
"Oh, we'll round them up," he said, "Anders is the brains of the operation."
As we rode to Rhodes, Archibald explained about the two families in the area - the Grays and the Braithwaites. They had been fighting for years, so long nobody knew why anymore, but Archibald was of course of the opinion the Grays were right. He did work for Sheriff Gray, of course.
We got to the Sheriff's office where Hosea, Dutch and the Sheriff were waiting.
"Mr Gray! We got him!" Archibald yelled.
"Very good," he grinned, walking forward.
"I told you Ann would deliver," Dutch said, "Girl has a passion for justice."
"That's wonderful!" Gray said.
"So, about my friend here..." Dutch said, I had forgotten all about Trelawny.
"Your idiot friend is free to go, but no more trouble from you," Gray warned him, letting him out, "Mr Macintosh, it has been a real honour."
"Well, we're just honoured to be here," Dutch smiled as we left. I knew he had been working that silver tongue on the Sheriff.
"I can't thank you enough," Trelawny said as we walked away.
"Where have you been?" Dutch asked him.
"Around," it was never a straight answer with Trelawny, "This whole town is trapped in this interminable feud between the two families."
"Interesting," Dutch said.
"Two old plantation houses, falling out over rebel gold, and marrying cousins and not marrying," Trelawny sighed.
"You three, you start poking around," Dutch told us, "See what you can find out about that."
"I've heard about bounties," Trelawny continued.
"I've had a price on my head for thirteen years," Dutch said, "They won't find us out here."
"Well, they're good bounties," Trelawny said, "There's apparently talk of it in bars in the north and west for five hundred miles. There was talk of super agents, or some such."
"I'd love to meet one," Dutch laughed, "It's just talk."
"I'm sure it is, but I couldn't not tell you," Trelawny said, "Farewell."
"Stay out of trouble," Dutch warned before turning to us, "Right, these two families. Ann, you deal with the Gray's, see what the story is there. Hosea, you see what you can find out about these Braithwaites."
"My speciality," Hosea said, then they turned to me.
"What happened to your cheek?" Arthur asked, wiping off the blood.
"One of them had a knife, I wasn't quick enough," I shrugged, "I've had worse."
"We'll fix it up when we get back," Hosea told me.
"I coulda done that, 'stead of you," Arthur said, a pointed look at Dutch.
"We both know I'm the better rider," I winked at him and he shoved me roughly.
"Enough, you two," Dutch warned before we started wrestling in the middle of town.
"I'll get you later," Arthur warned me and I stuck my tongue out at him, mounting up.
"Quite a fishing trip," I laughed.
"I'm still up for it," Dutch shrugged, "What about you?"
"Sure, why not," I said.
"So where's this creek?" Dutch asked as we mounted up.
"It's not a creek, its the same lake we're camped on, just further down," Hosea said.
"Let's see if you're as good at catching fish as you are catching criminals, Ann," Dutch laughed.
"Trelawny owes me for that," I grumbled.
"Trelawny owes everyone for something, but his information is good," Hosea told me.
"Plus we are now ingratiated with the local law," Dutch commented, "I'd say it was a good diversion all round."
We arrived at the lake and found a boat that was perfect for us to row out to a better spot.
"I'll row, you three are too old for real labour," I said as we sat down.
"And you're too dumb for anything else," Hosea piped up and I turned to him.
"You're too quick for me, old man," I laughed.
"I enjoy picking on children," he laughed, ruffling my hair, "Take us into the deeper water."
"Anyone is too quick for you, Wright," Arthur commented.
"Wanna test that theory?" I asked before flicking the oar, soaking him completely in water.
"Okay, let's not capsize this boat with childish games," Dutch warned, raising an eyebrow at us.
"You raised us like this," I shrugged, making a face at him.
"Well, obviously I failed in raising you properly," he said with a grunt, looking over the water.
Arthur shoved me lightly when Dutch stopped paying attention, but I forced myself to not retaliate and just rowed.
I rowed us out until Hosea told me to stop and we took out our rods. Hosea told us lake lures were the best bet and we cast out. I wasn't a huge fan of fishing, but I enjoyed spending time with the two men I saw as fathers, even if Arthur was there to bug me. I didn't get much alone time with them these days, it was great!
They cheered me when I caught my first fish, a fair-sized trout. I had never been good at fishing so catching something was quite an achievement for me!
"Hey, Hosea? Remember that time we sent Arthur out fishing? He came back with three beautiful bass?" Arthur cringed as Dutch spoke, I knew what he was doing and I grinned.
"Not this again," Arthur whined but he was ignored.
"I don't think I do," Hosea said, grinning at me.
"Oh yeah, you do. He was maybe twenty, twenty-one," Dutch continued, "Walked in all full of himself, we had a big feast, toasted him all night!"
"This was fifteen years ago," Arthur complained.
"Oh, I remember now," Hosea said.
"Then the next week, Arthur and I are at the market," Dutch said, "and the fishmonger calls out, 'so how did you enjoy those bass?'"
We all burst out laughing and Arthur shook his head in annoyance.
"Look, you can fish, or you can go drinking all day, rob someone, and buy some fish," he grumbled.
"You know, I used to go fishing with this feller, back in the day," Hosea spoke, "Wesley, his name was. Real miserable bastard, but he loved to fish. We'd go out all the time. But, one day, we were river fishing when we see a funeral procession going over the bridge and, out of the blue, Wesley stands up, takes off his hat, bows his head. Then he sits back down, picks his rod back up and carries on, doesn't say a word. So, I'm a little surprised and say 'Wesley, that was real nice of you.' And he replies, 'Well, I felt I had to. After all, I was married to her for thirty years.'"
He guffawed as Arthur and I shared a look.
"Oh, there he is," Dutch sighed.
"Oh dear god..." I groaned, "I might swim to shore."
"Did I ever tell you my mother's buried in Blackwater?" Dutch asked after some silence.
"Really? She is?" Hosea asked.
"Apparently so, I only found out from an uncle of mine years later," Dutch continued, "Last I knew, she was still outside Philadelphia. I left home at fifteen and didn't see her again. She and I didn't always see eye to eye. I wasn't always a very obedient child."
"I can only imagine," Hosea remarked.
"Still, I loved her, in my own way and she me in hers," he laughed, "Somehow, even from the grave, she managed to have the last laugh."
"I do wish I'd known my parents," I said suddenly, and the three men looked at me, "I mean, don't get me wrong, I wouldn't trade this life for the world! I just wish I could know why they abandoned me."
"I understand, darling," Dutch clapped me on the shoulder, "People's actions... we can't always understand them. And I guess I never told you much about how I found you or anything."
He sighed then stared into the distance.
"It was actually the last time we were in this area," he finally spoke, "Saint Denis. Or, just outside it. Based on the blanket you were wrapped in, it must have been a family with money who had you. My best guess, either your mother or father had a relationship with a less rich individual, it would have brought scandal. The best way to deal with it was to leave you for the gators. But, lucky for you, we found you before that happened."
"And for that, I'm eternally grateful," I smiled at my small family, "I wouldn't have liked to live in a rich family anyway. It sounds awful."
"That it does," Dutch laughed, but he gave me a concerned look at the same time. I hadn't ever spoken about my thoughts about my family before, I guessed.
But the fact we were in the right area for where I was born? Maybe I would be able to find them, maybe I could get an explanation! But I didn't even know where to start.
"I reckon we should call it a day, I'll row us back," Hosea said suddenly and we put down our rods.
"No, I'll row," I broke myself out of my trance.
"No, you sit," he smiled at me, "We can't make the young 'un do all the work!"
"That was fun," Dutch laughed, "I've missed the old crew."
"Ann, come over here," Dutch called me over a while after we returned, "Take this."
He handed me a blanket with a bit of embroidery on it. It read Ann Wright!
"Wait..." I stared up at him, "I always assumed you made up that name for me?"
"No," he gave me a small smile, "Maybe I didn't explicitly let you know, but yes, Wright is your family name. You're old enough now that you can decide for yourself, there's no point trying to hide it anymore. Seek them out if you want, or just live being my daughter. I trust you, either way."
"No matter whether I seek them out, Dutch, they won't be my family," I said, "No matter what I find, I'll always consider myself your daughter. Nothing changes that."
"I know, my girl," he nodded at the blanket, "Do what you want with that. If you choose to seek them out, start with Saint Denis."
"Thank you, so much," I grinned.
With that information, I rode to Saint Denis without a moment's hesitation. I was finally given this knowledge, and I had to find out what the truth was!
"Hello, is there a Wright family around these parts?" I asked the shopkeeper in the general store.
"Wright? Sure, the big house at the end of the road there," he gave me a big smile, "William Wright lives there with his wife, Elizabeth."
"Great, thank you so much!" I ran out of the store and towards the house the shopkeeper told me about.
It towered over me, hugely intimidating. What was I going to find if I went in there? Would they even know who I am? If they did, would they even want to see me? I was doubting myself, this was a foolish idea.
I walked through the gate and towards the steps of the big house. Was I really doing this?
"Elizabeth, come on," a man's voice said as the door opened.
I ran to the side of the house, just out of view. I looked round the corner as two people walked out. A man, maybe around Dutch's age with brown hair, a scruffy beard and pained eyes. He was wearing a black suit and leading a woman out of the door. She had soft bronze hair, it flowed past her shoulders onto her black dress, her eyes held the same painful expression. Were these my parents?
They walked around the other side of the house and I crept behind them. They seemed to be in mourning, but what were they doing around the side of the house? What were they mourning?
"She'd be twenty today, William," the woman he'd called Elizabeth sobbed, "She'd be an adult."
"I know, my dear," William hugged her tightly, "I wish things had been different. I wish I'd known how vile my mother was, I knew she didn't like you but... to kill a child? I'm so sorry that it happened, I beg for God's forgiveness every day. The guilt of our daughter's death is like a knife in my heart."
"I'd never blame you for it, William," Elizabeth cried, placing flowers down on something in front of them, "All we can do now is remember her. And pray that maybe, somehow, she got out."
"Yes, my dear," they stood in silence for some time, staring at whatever was in front of them.
I was hidden by a bush, slumped against the wall of the house. They hadn't ditched me there? It had been my grandmother, just because she hated my mother? Did they really mourn me, was this really true? My whole life I thought they had abandoned me, yet now I realise they still love me even though they think I'm dead. They seemed to never have another child, was I really that important to them?
I expected to come here, speak to them and hate them. But I couldn't. I couldn't hate them, and I couldn't speak to them. I couldn't leave Dutch, and speaking to them would be unfair on both parties. To say I'm alive and then just leave again, to have them know their daughter is a wanted criminal? I could think of nothing worse.
I had been so deep in thought, I had noticed the couple turn around and head back to the house. I held my breath as they walked past my bush, sighing in relief when I heard the door open.
I stood up and walked towards the thing they were standing at. It was a memorial, covered in beautiful flowers and clearly well maintained. It was a stone plaque, decorated with fancy shapes. In the centre, it read 'ANN WRIGHT'. It was a memorial for me?
After all these years of hating people I didn't know, I felt deep guilt settle in me. They had never forgotten me and never forgiven themselves for letting me go. I took the blanket Dutch gave me out of my bag and stared at the letters for a moment. I couldn't go and speak to them, but how could I let them know I was alright?
"Hey! You! Get away from there!" I turned around and saw my father running at me, an angry look on his face.
I dropped the blanket on the memorial and leapt over the fence, leaning against the wall, just out of view if he chose to look over.
"What the hell is thi—" he stopped speaking, I knew what he'd seen, "Elizabeth. Oh my god, Elizabeth!"
"What is it?" I heard footsteps running, I was regretting my decision.
"Look, it's... It's her blanket," my father said in a tearful voice, "It's Ann's blanket! She's still alive, she's somewhere here!"
"She can't be... all these years?" My mother's voice sounded equally tearful. I was a fool.
"Ann! Ann! Come back, please, my darling!"
I felt the tears roll down my face as my parents pleaded with me to make an appearance. But I knew I couldn't, it would never work. At least they knew now that I was alive, but that was all I could give them.
As their voices moved away from the wall, I took the opportunity to move a bit away and whistle for Roach. He came cantering over to me and I mounted him, giving my once home one last look.
I put my hat over my head and sighed deeply, catching sight of my parents. My mother looked at me and grabbed my father's arm, forcing him to look as well. I dipped my hat in their direction and turned, pushing Roach on to take me away before I did anything else I'd regret.
"Please!" I heard them call, but I couldn't. The tears continued flowing as I rode away, leaving all of us broken-hearted.