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moeitsu · 29 days

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The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Hi everyone! I have a new Arthur x female!OC fic I've been working on that's posted up on Ao3, so I figured I would share it here as well. Please let me know what you think! This story is currently still on-going :)

Ao3 Wattpad Masterlist - All Chapters Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9 Ch.10

Summary: Kate McCanon, a young widow from the north, meets outlaw Arthur Morgan. When the two cross paths she discovers a complex man wrestling with his own sense of right and wrong. As their unlikely bond deepens, Kate becomes determined to guide Arthur towards a brighter path, even as tensions rise within his gang led by the enigmatic Dutch van der Linde. With danger lurking at every turn, Kate must navigate treacherous territory to protect those she holds dear, all while finding love in the most unexpected of places. Tags: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character, Widowed, Original Character, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby Arthur Morgan, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Chapter 1 - The Frost Gleams Where The Flowers Have Been

1890

Kate had never fancied herself a skilled woodworker. While she had lent a hand to her husband in constructing a barn, her role mostly entailed passing him tools and bringing him his lunch. But as she stood amidst the sawdust, tears streaking down her cheeks, she grappled with the daunting task ahead. She lacked both the sufficient wood and the patience to craft two coffins. Thus, the inevitable decision emerged: they would be laid to rest together.

The Reverend's suggestion to cremate the bodies, emphasizing the need to eradicate the disease completely, fell upon deaf ears. The mere thought of reducing her beloved husband and precious baby girl to ashes felt abhorrent to Kate. Instead, she harbored a tender hope that one day, perhaps, they would blossom into a magnificent Willow tree.

Amidst the melancholy chore, the vibrant symphony of birdsong provided a bittersweet backdrop, reminiscent of the lullabies she once crooned to her infant daughter. With a sorrowful melody humming in her heart, Kate toiled diligently, her hands blackened with grime, each wipe across her tear-stained cheeks a testament to her grief. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting their modest farm in a golden hue, Kate's work pressed on.

Night descended swiftly, cloaking the world in shadows that seemed to stretch for an eternity. Kate, perched upon her porch swing, found no solace in slumber. Her vigil was solemn, her gaze never wavering from the rough-hewn coffins that cradled her entire world within their confines.

With the break of dawn, the Reverend returned, his disapproval evident, yet tempered by resignation. Together, in a somber silence, they labored to fashion a final resting place. By mid-afternoon, the grave stood ready, a solemn abyss awaiting its occupants. With the Reverend's assistance, Kate tenderly lowered her cherished husband and daughter into the earth's cold embrace.

As dusk settled, the Reverend offered prayers and parting words before taking his leave. Left alone in her sorrow, Kate felt the weight of despair bearing down upon her. In a world forged by men and seemingly devoid of solace for a solitary widow, she found herself with no recourse but to depart.

Beneath the twilight sky, the epitaph etched upon their shared gravestone bore silent witness to her profound loss:

Here Lies My Beloved Noah, And Our Beautiful Daughter, Lorena.

May God Keep Their Souls.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

1899

As the sun rose over the horizon, casting its golden rays across the sprawling expanse of Emerald Ranch, Kate found herself amidst the ebb and flow of another day's labor. Nine years had slipped by since the tragic loss of her husband and daughter, a span of time marked by wandering footsteps and the pursuit of odd jobs on her journey westward.

She had once heard her father say they had family in California, he had many sisters but only kept in touch with one. Kate wrote to her after the death of her husband, seeking asylum with a relative with nowhere else to go. Her Aunt wrote her back and gave her condolences, she said Kate would be welcome with open arms.

However, the last she heard of her Aunt was 7 years ago. But still, she continued west. She had come too far and been through too much to stop now. What she hoped to find in the valleys of California, she did not know anymore. Over the years she became more cowboy and less of a woman, her once soft hands now calloused by years of labor. The untamed plains and cold hard ground had become both her refuge and her bed.

She came to Emerald Ranch only a week ago, her boss; Seamus, was reluctant to hire a stranger, let alone a woman, to help on the ranch. Kate assured him she was cheap labor and was only looking for shelter and a place to rest until she was on the move again. Kate was no stranger to odd jobs, she took any work she could get and saved as much as she could. But she was no criminal.

She heard Seamus talking to two men as she filled the troughs with clean water. The gentlemen said they were new in town and looking for a partnership, one in which they could both make money.

“Look I ain't no idiot, and I don't trust folks outta the blue. If you want to work together then you're gonna have to prove to me you’re worth my time.” Her boss's voice raised above the usual noise of the barn animals.

“Of course! We’re only interested in a partnership, just looking to make a little extra money.” Carried the voice of an older gentleman.

“No doubt. I do interesting very well. It's trusting that I don't do so well.” her boss answered, still not convinced by the two strangers.

“Look at us, we’re honest as the day is long,” said the other man with cheer.

“You really want us to prove ourselves to this clown Hosea?” said the other voice, sounding much younger than his partner.

Seamus scoffed, “good day to you, Hosea.”

“N-now wait a minute Seamus. Arthur can be rough, and quick with his tongue, but I swear you can trust him, you can trust me.” Hosea pleaded, following Seamus to the side of the barn. Kate now had a clear view of the new “business partners”.

Kate didn't know Seamus very well, but she could tell he was an honest enough man. Wise for his years, and liked to keep his nose out of trouble. “I’m an old man Hosea,” he began, “and you know why I ain’t dead yet?”

“Because you don't trust idiots,” Hosea finished.

“Exactly.”

“We’re not idiots, Seamus. Let us prove it to you.” Hosea had an air of confidence, he wasn't some runaway bum looking to make a quick buck. He was serious about a partnership. Although Kate wouldn't say the same for his partner, who loomed behind them like a panther ready to pounce.

“Okay…I’ll tell you what, old Bob Crawford and his boys just bought a beautiful stolen stagecoach from up north. It’s in their barn. Now you go get that,” he looked around for anyone who might be listening to his scheming, “then we can work together.” He said quietly, placing a hand on Hosea’s shoulder.

“Who’s Old Bob Crawford?” inquired Hosea.

“An acquaintance of mine…well, not just an acquaintance. He’s my cousin, by marriage.” Seamus explained.

“Oh so now we’re meddlin’ in your family business?” Arthur boasted with skepticism.

Hosea waved him off and continued speaking, “Where is he located?”

“Now hang on a moment, you boys could very easily take this coach and sell it yourselves for a pretty penny,” Seamus began.

“So you comin’ with us? I thought you didn't want to be involved in shady business?” Arthur spoke up again.

“Heavens no, if my cousin saw me it would be my death. I'm sending someone with you, as collateral.” Seamus turned around and saw Kate already watching them, he waved her over.

Arthur shook his head disapprovingly, “nah, I don't do babysitters Seamus.”

Kate was just as skeptical about her part in this, she told Seamus she was looking for honest work, and robbing his cousin certainly falls out of that line.

“She’s not babysitting . She’ll take you to my cousin's farm and let you do the robbing. Kate has been working for me for a few days now and she’s tougher than she looks.” Seamus said turning to Kate, “I want you to make sure that stage coach gets back to me. You don't need to take part in the robbery.”

“You’re fine with them robbing your cousin?” She spoke in a hushed tone so only Seamus could hear.

“By marriage,” he added, “and yes, I would love it. The man’s been a thorn in my ass for years.” He said amused.

She nodded in acknowledgement and turned to get a good look at the two strangers. One was indeed much older than the other, with cropped white hair peeking out from under his hat. The other gentleman was tall and burly, and he hid his eyes under the brim of his hat. He seemed wary of strangers and kept both hands resting on his gun belt.

“Let me get my horse saddled and I’ll meet you boys at the intersection leading out of town.” She spoke, Hosea nodded and was already making his way to his horse. Arthur stood for a moment eyeing the woman, no doubt playing the intimidation tactic. But Kate had seen far scarier men than him in her days. “Y'know the quicker we get this done the quicker you fellas get paid.” She noted.

Arthur scoffed and finally followed Hosea to his horse, “don't need no damn babysitter,” he grumbled kicking dust.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Kate made quick work of saddling her black Hungarian roan, she calls Lorena. After her infant daughter. In a moments pass she was on the dirt road leading out of Emerald Ranch and toward Carmody Dell. She waved for the two men to follow her, they stayed behind her a short distance and made no effort for small conversation.

However, she overheard snippets of their own conversation as they went, “I thought you wanted me to be the strong arm? That's usually how it goes,” Arthur spoke.

“Yes but..” Hosea hesitated, lowering his tone a little, “you know how this works.”

“Cmon Hosea that fellers a joke, he don't even trust us enough to handle it ourselves. Now we got a chaperone.” Arthur complained loudly, at least he’s not calling me a babysitter , Kate thought.

“All the better, he won't cause us any problems. And I cant blame the guy for sending the girl. Two strangers looking for quick money? Hell, I’d want assurance too.” Hosea answered, “besides, if he’s sending protection that means there’s big money to be made. Seamus wants his cut.”

Kate came to the same conclusion, up until now Seamus had given her the usual ranch-hand tasks. Feeding and cleaning mostly. This was very different, there must be good money for this stage coach.

“I guess you’re right,” Arthur muttered.

Hosea mumbled something back to Arthur about “hanging up their hats” if they couldn't finish a job as easy as this. They laughed and began chatting about their travels in Emerald ranch, Kate tuned them out and began humming a song to her horse.

Her singing always pleased her horse and calmed the girl’s nerves. She was a strong and fierce steed, but jumpy and needy like a baby sometimes. Kate thought naming her horse after her daughter would bring her closure, instead, she was almost convinced that her daughter's spirit lived on in Lorena somehow. In all ways except biological, her horse was her baby.

Carmody Dell was a short distance north past the train tracks and Fort Wallace, Kate had passed it once before. They rode at a steady pace, the men behind her never coming too close. She wondered for a moment what their story was, and why they needed money so bad. Perhaps they were travelers like her, maybe they even had a caravan. She entertained the thought of traveling with a group again, but shuddered at the memories. Her previous caravan adventures had not ended well.

Once the ranch was in view she slowed and allowed the boys to catch up on either side of her. She led them to a grassy clearing off the road.

“You should continue on foot from here, I’ll stay behind with your horses.” She said dismounting. The two of them nodded and dismounted their horses, Kate was almost surprised to hear no objections from Arthur.

“C'mon son, let's see what we’re dealing with here.” Hosea commented walking towards a large rock in front of the house.

“Son”, so they are family . She mentally noted. Arthur gave his horse a pat, “be a good girl for the lady” he said, tipping his hat towards Kate. She was slightly taken aback by the sudden politeness.

She busied herself with the horses for a bit while the men laid out their plan, she gave Hosea and Arthurs horse a treat and was about to start brushing his horse when he approached her again. Startled, she backed away from his mare, she didn't want him to think she was snooping in his saddle bags.

“You can keep brushin’ her, she loves attention,” he half smiled reaching up and petting her snout. “I just came to tell ya’ we’re gonna wait till it gets dark. Less chance of getting caught that way.”

“Smart,” she replied, for whatever reason she suddenly felt very shy in his presence.

He stood a few feet away from her and she could see more of his features. He was around her age. He had short dirty blond hair under his leather hat, and bright blue/green eyes. Her eyes lingered over his body. He was big too, more than a foot taller than her and well fed and muscular. His bicep had to be the size of her head alone, and she could tell by the fabric of his button down he had a bit of a belly hidden behind his gun belt.

“What’s her name?” His voice broke through her awkward silence.

“Who?” She asked and looked back at him.

He chortled, “the black beauty you got over there,” he nodded to her horse.

Oh, duh! “Her name is Lorena, she also loves attention but she’s nervous around new people.” Kate answered, still a bit lost in her thoughts.

Arthur made a clicking sound with his tongue, reaching out a hand and slowly walking toward her horse. “It’s alright girl,” he cooed while she sniffed his palm. He pulled out a peppermint and gave it to her, which Lorena happily accepted.

Kate smiled at the interaction, “you introduce yourself to my horse before me?” she teased.

“My apologies ma’am,” he turned to face her, “names Arthur Morgan.”

“Nice to meet you Mr. Morgan, I’m Kate McCanon.” She reached out her hand and he shook it. His grip was firm but polite.

“Likewise, Miss.McCanon. That’s Belle your brushin’, and that’s Silver Dollar.” He pointed at Hosea’s horse. “I saw this beauty when we first rode into Emerald ranch, had no idea she was yours tho.” He was talking about her horse again, “told myself I’d inquire about buying her if she was available.”

Kate smiled at the affection he was showing for her horse, she knew Lorena was a beautiful mare. She often received compliments on the road, and many have offered to pay for her purebred.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but she’s not for sale.”

“Well I can certainly see that,” he laughed, “she seems happy though. You must take real good care of her.” He said, his attention still on her mare as he scratched under her chin.

“You some kind of horse breeder Mr. Morgan?” Kate asked.

Arthur laughed, “no no. Nothing like that, though sometimes I wish I was.” He smiled as he said it but Kate noticed there was a sadness in his tone. “I just think they’re neat is all.”

They had only just met, and while Arthur was not initially the most pleasant, she found it incredibly cute how enraptured he was by her horse.

“I should probably also apologize for my rudeness earlier, it’s been a rough couple weeks for us and we uh- don’t always take too kindly to strangers.” Arthur took off his hat as he spoke and held it to his chest, a sincere gesture.

Kate was shocked, the man she met at Emerald ranch not even an hour ago seemed like a completely different person than the man before her. His cold demeanor was gone, or at least reined in at the moment.

“No apology needed Mr. Morgan. I understand,” She answered. “Although I wouldn’t call it rude, you were just skeptical. Rightfully so, can I ask what brings you to Emerald Ranch?”

Arthur looked away from her as he spoke, choosing to focus on her horse. “We’re just stayin’ in the area for a few weeks. Passin’ through and tryna make money.”

“By robbing stagecoaches?” Kate said in an amused tone, “you a bunch of outlaws or something?” She continued, half-joking.

Arthur looked at her with surprise, “What? No, we uh- got laid off from the railway. Up-north. Just looking for money so we can find a place to settle down again. That’s all.” He looked away again, avoiding her gaze.

“I’ll say it again, by robbing stagecoaches?” She kept her tone playful, but wasn’t entirely convinced by his story. But it felt good to be the intimidator.

“Wasn’t our idea, Seamus asked us to rob his cousin!” His voice rose slightly with anger.

“By marriage,” Kate retorted.

Arthur was about to speak again but only stared at her.

“I’m just pulling your leg Mr. Morgan.” Kate laughed. “It’s no business of mine. I’m only passing through here, same as you. What you do here and how you earn your money is your business. As is mine.”

Arthur scoffed, suddenly amused, did this woman just tease me?

He went to speak again before another voice interrupted them, “Arthur! Get over here!” Called Hosea. He pointed a finger at Kate as to say this isn’t over and walked away.

Amused with herself, Kate grabbed an apple and sat down against a tree. Watching the sun set as she waited for the cover of night so the two men could pull off their heist.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Kate woke suddenly to the sound of horses moving. She quickly got up and looked in the direction of the ranch. Sure enough the stage coach was steadily moving down the path away from its place in the barn. She quickly mounted her horse and trotted over to them.

“Nice work! Follow me back to Emerald Ranch and try to keep it in one piece.” She called up to Hosea who was driving the coach. With that she clicked her tongue and took off ahead of the coach at a steady but quick pace. Not wanting to get themselves caught.

Before Hosea could crack the reins he looked to Arthur as he was about to get in the coach, “you ride ahead with her. I got this.”

Arthur looked confused, “why wouldn’t I ride with you? The horses will follow.”

Now Hosea was giving him an amused look, “I heard you with her earlier.”

“And?” The cowboy replied slightly annoyed.

“You’ve never fumbled our cover story so bad!” He quipped, “it was like listening to a child tell it!”

Arthur shook his head, “now you’re playin’ match maker old man?” He teased, trying to hide his smile.

“I’m just saying it wouldn’t kill you to go talk to her son."

Without another word Arthur nodded and dismounted the coach, getting into the saddle and riding off to catch up to Kate.

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moeitsu · 28 days

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The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Summary: It's time to collect a debt

Ao3 Wattpad Masterlist - All Chapters Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9 Ch.10

Tags: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character, Widowed, Original Character, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby Arthur Morgan, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Ch 4 - The Frost Gleams Where The Flowers Have Been

Time whisked by faster than a hound chasing a rabbit through tall grass. A week had already slipped through Kate's fingers since she first became a part of the camp. Initially planning just a brief stay, she found herself relishing the comforting routine it offered. There was always a warm fire to gather around, a hearty meal to share, and the camaraderie of her newfound friends. But amidst the stability, a yearning for adventure tugged at her heartstrings, urging her to break free from the confines of camp, even if only for a day.

Arthur's comings and goings became a familiar rhythm in the camp's bustling routine. Rarely catching more than a glimpse of him before he vanished on another errand for Dutch, Kate couldn't help but miss his presence. She admired his unwavering dedication to the gang's needs, even if it meant sacrificing his own rest and relaxation. The man seemed to be perpetually on the move, always ready to answer the call of duty, no matter the hour.

Determined to bridge the gap, Kate promised herself to lend a hand the next time Arthur returned to camp, as long as it didn't involve any unsavory activities like killing folk. Meanwhile, she found solace in the company of her fellow campmates. Abigail, Tilly, and Mary-Beth had become her trusted confidantes, bonding over laundry duties and exchanging juicy tidbits of camp gossip. Kate couldn't help but chuckle at the wealth of information she'd amassed about John, courtesy of Abigail's candid revelations. She could probably write a book with how much dirt she had on him.

Kate also found companionship in the likes of Sadie and Lenny, often engaging in games of poker or dominos to while away the hours. Karen and Molly remained enigmatic figures, preferring to keep to themselves, though Kate respected their need for privacy, understanding the complexities of the situation, and Molly’s relationship with Dutch.

Despite their infrequent interactions, Kate held out hope for a chance to connect with Charles, intrigued by the silent strength he exuded. Perhaps a shared hunt would provide the opportunity for meaningful conversation.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The girls were gathered around the makeshift wooden table, indulging in a lunch of meat and cheese when Micah swaggered over, looking for trouble as usual. Kate had endured the displeasure of conversing with Micah only twice in the past week, and neither encounter had been pleasant. She noticed his penchant for making inappropriate comments, particularly targeting the other girls. When he wasn't being lewd, he took pleasure in needling the other gang members, especially Lenny, Javier, and sometimes even Arthur. Kate knew Arthur would have put him in his place if Dutch hadn't always conveniently intervened. She fought the urge to punch his greasy face when he made a jab about Arthur's weight, as if he were one to talk. After all, Arthur deserved to eat his fill for all the hard work he put in. Micah was always stirring the pot, and today seemed to be no different.

“Which one of you ladies wants to feed me my lunch?” He said smugly, resting both hands on his gun belt and standing uncomfortably close. The girls chose to ignore him.

“Is this how you treat the men who provide for you?” He exclaimed with annoyance.

Kate kept her head down and continued to eat as she spoke, as if Micah were less than an ant, “What exactly have you provided for us Micah? I’ve never seen you bring in food, or money for the matter. You leave and come back with nothing.”

Micah scoffed and sauntered to stand behind Kate, trying to intimidate her, “I provide information sweetheart, I risk my life out there getting leads for jobs.”

She laughed quietly and shook her head, “you poor thing ,” she mused, “I’ll keep you in my prayers.” The other girls giggled at her comment.

Micah stepped closer to her back, she could almost feel the gut of his belly against her hair, “watch your mouth woman.” He threatened.

Kate sighed and leaned her chin against her palm, bored with the conversation, “or what Micah?” She said with an eye-roll.

She heard him take a deep breath, or rather felt it, as he threw personal space at the wind at this point. He bent down to her ear and said lowly, “maybe I should take you to my cot, and fuck that attitude out of you whore .” He growled.

Kate dropped her fork and whipped her elbow around, turning her whole body with force. Micah yelped as her elbow met his nose with a soft wet crunch, bright red blood dripping through his fingers as he looked up between his brows in anger. She had wanted to do that since the day she met him, fed up with how he talks to the women of the camp. This act was for the girls.

“You dont have a dick to fuck me with Micah. You’re a lousy fucken’ excuse for a man,” she declared standing tall, “talk to me like that again and I’ll make sure I’m holding my knife when I swing next time.”

The other members watched in stunned silence as Dutch emerged from his tent, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "Enough of that!" he shouted, his gravelly tone signaling an end to the confrontation.

Micah spat at Kate’s feet and walked away, still trying to stem the blood pouring from his nose. She couldn't help but smirk at the sight – it was definitely broken. Sometime during the commotion, Arthur returned to camp, entering from the tree line as Micah left. She nodded in greeting as he approached.

Before she could walk over to him, Dutch intercepted her, clearly annoyed that their squabble had disturbed him. “Kate, my dear friend,” he said in a brusque tone, “why don't you find some work outside of camp today? Hm? Go make yourself useful.” He patted her shoulder.

Kate furrowed her brows at his insinuation. How was this her fault? Micah had clearly started it; he was always stirring up trouble and never finishing it.

“Arthur!” Dutch called out to the approaching cowboy. “Take Kate with you today. On, whatever it is you’re doing.” He waved them off, sounding like a parent trying to pass on their troublesome child to someone else.

Arthur approached with a shrug, “uh, sure. But I just got back-”

“Herr Morgan!” interrupted a voice, causing Arthur to visibly sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance. The list of chores never seemed to end, and Arthur was always the one sent to handle them.

“Strauss,” Arthur acknowledged with a tired voice, turning around to greet the wiry old German.

“How is the debt collecting coming along? Have you collected from that fella Downes?” Strauss inquired.

“No…I have not,” Arthur answered flatly.

“Well, as you know, Mister Morgan, we lent him quite a sum, and it seems he has little intention of paying it back,” Strauss explained as he followed Arthur, who was trying to grab a meal for himself after working all day. “You have not seen him yet, I take it?”

Kate stood back, observing the conversation unfold, patiently waiting to talk to Arthur. He was clearly irritated by Strauss’ interruption but tried to maintain politeness as he continued the conversation. “I-I’m sorry, Strauss. I’ve had a lot on my mind. I’ll go give him a gentle reminder.”

“Not so gentle,” the German corrected. “I don't like his kind. They think they are superior. Please take care of this right away.” With that, Strauss made his exit. Kate knew he wasn't trying to be rude or demanding; it was just another task that, for some reason, Arthur was deemed best suited to handle.

As Arthur finished speaking with Strauss, he turned back to Kate with a tired yet apologetic expression. "Sorry ‘bout that. Looks like Dutch has volunteered us for another errand," he said with a weary smile.

Kate grinned in response, unfazed by the prospect of more work, though she had sympathy for the man, he was clearly exhausted. "No worries, Arthur. I'm always up for the adventure," she replied casually, “wanna saddle up after you finish eating?”

"Sounds perfect," Arthur nodded appreciatively, carrying his plate back to the table. The other girls had already cleaned up and returned to their tasks.

“That was a nice swing you pulled on Micah,” Arthur remarked between spoonfuls of stew, “ ‘bout time someone made that asshole bleed. Just wish I could’a done it sooner.”

“I certainly enjoyed it,” Kate admitted with a smirk, “I hate the way he talks to everyone.”

"Yeah, me too," Arthur agreed, his tone filled with frustration, pushing the contents of the leftover stew around with his spoon. "I don't know why Dutch insists on keepin’ him around," he added, glancing around as if afraid of being overheard.

Kate leaned against the table, her gaze following Micah's path. "He ain't good for nothing aside from causing trouble," she remarked, her voice firm.

Arthur brought the bowl to his lips and drained the last of his stew and stood up, determination in his eyes. "I'd give anything to watch that shit-stain hang," he declared as they headed towards their horses.

Kate nodded in agreement. "Amen to that."

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The Downes ranch was a short ride west, Arthur taking the lead as Kate rode beside him. Lorena whinnied with excitement at the chance to stretch her legs and run again.

“How did things go with Mary?” Kate inquired, breaking the comfortable silence. She had been wanting to discuss it with him but hadn't found the opportunity amidst their busy lives.

“It went alright, I guess,” Arthur began, maintaining a steady trot as he settled into the saddle. “Saved her little brother from some crazy cult,” he added with a huff.

“A cult? Good Lord, I hope it wasn't those bastards with the pointy white hoods,” she exclaimed, a hint of concern in her voice.

Arthur chuckled. “Nah, nothing that serious. They called themselves Chelonians, followers of the turtle or something,” he explained, shaking his head with amusement. “Hell if I know, they seemed like they were ready to jump off the cliff when I found them.”

“Yikes, poor kid probably just looking for some kind of purpose in his life,” she remarked with sympathy.

“Yup, ain't we all,” Arthur agreed, scanning the horizon before turning to Kate, “you a religious woman?” he asked curiously.

Kate pondered the question for a moment before responding, “Sorta,” she shrugged, “I used to be, I was raised catholic. My mother was pretty involved in the Vatican before she came here, so she carried a lot of those beliefs with her.”

“Pardon my ignorance, but um, what's a vatican?”

Kate smiled at his question, “it’s a city, in Rome,” she answered, “s’posed to be the Center of Christianity.”

Arthur’s eyes lit up with interest, “Rome? I thought you said you was from Boston?”

She couldn't help but laugh, “I am, my mother was from Rome,” she clarified, “anyways, after she died the whole religion thing didn't really stick. Although sometimes I still find myself prayin’, just don’t know to who.”

Arthur nodded at her answer, taking in the new information. Kate spoke up again and reciprocated his question, “are you a religious man?”

He shook his head firmly, “nah, I don't believe in nothin’.”

“Oh c’mon, you gotta believe in something. What do you make of this mess we call life?” Kate teased, trying to prompt a more serious answer from him.

He sighed, “I believe everything must happen for a reason, otherwise, what's the point of it all?”

“Well that’s much better than nothing” she said with a smile, “but I bet that belief will drive ya crazy too,” she thought about her next question for a moment before finally asking it, “what do you make of death?”

Arthur kept his gaze forward as they trotted, seemingly avoiding the question. After a moment, he spoke up again, his voice sounding small. “I don’t know anything ‘bout that either.”

Kate exhaled softly. “If I remember correctly, that agent, Milton, said you were wanted for murder,” she paused, “who’d ya kill?” She knew she was probably pushing her luck, but if he didn’t want to answer she wouldn’t pry.

Arthur shot her a look from under the brim of his hat. “Damn, woman, you sure are forward, ain’t you?” His lips twitched in a small smile.

Kate shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m just asking!” she said defensively. “You’re an interesting man, Arthur. The first time we met, you were robbing a stagecoach, telling me you're a railway worker. Next thing I know, I see you again, and suddenly you got a $5000 bounty on your head. Forgive a woman for asking.” She laughed.

He laughed and shook his head, “I’m afraid that's a story for another time friend,” he said, nudging his mare's side and picking up the pace, “c’mon it ain't far now, I’ll race ya.” He added, changing the subject.

Arthur wasn’t afraid to admit he had killed people; he knew she would have left the gang a while ago had she felt she was in danger. But he worried about what she would think of him when he told her the whole truth. He felt like a fool; he wasn't pretending to be innocent, but he liked what he had with her. It was easy, it was natural, and he feared when she knew the truth, she would think differently of him, think less of him.

Kate yipped, and Lorena sprang into action, beginning their race along the final stretch to the ranch. As they rode, Arthur pulled on his reins ever so slightly, letting Kate take the lead. He watched as she whooped and hollered, riding past with a grin plastered on her face.

A heavy cloud settled over him; this wasn't just some silly horse race with a pretty lady. They were riding to collect a debt, a debt that needed to be repaid because his gang needed money. And money was what got them into this mess in the first place. If things had gone differently in Blackwater, they wouldn't even be here. Arthur shook his head at the memory, suddenly reminded of his situation. He’s a wanted man, an outlaw; he’s here on a job, and he would make damn sure it got done.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Kate admired the small ranch as they hitched their horses to a fence post out front. It was a cozy house with a neat garden, and sprawling plains for grazing animals. "Not a bad spot to make a living," she thought.

A woman sat on the porch swing, sewing something in her lap, while a young boy tended to the chickens nearby. In the garden, a man was busy with his vegetables. Arthur marched toward the man, presumably Mr. Downes, prompting Kate to quicken her pace to catch up.

"Thomas Downes!" Arthur's voice boomed, startling Kate. His tone was starkly different from how he usually spoke. She realized he was putting on a show of strength. Annoyed that he hadn't planned their approach together, she followed behind him.

“Thomas Downes!” He repeated, “you owe me money!” As Arthur swung open the garden gate with force, dirt kicked up into the air.

Mr. Downes stood up, hands raised defensively, clutching a rake to his chest as if it were his shield against the impending confrontation, “oh, no-no I-I’m.” His voice trembled.

Arthur approached him with heavy steps, each one more intimidating than the last, “c'mere you maggot,” he spat. With a swift motion, he ripped the rake from Mr. Downes' grasp, leaving Kate stunned into silence.

"Please, sir, I-I have family, please," Mr. Downes pleaded, backing up against the opposite fence post. Kate followed them into the garden, her heart racing with unease as she witnessed Arthur's actions.

As Arthur swung his fist into the man’s face, Kate gasped in horror. At the same moment, Mrs. Downes came running from the porch, her voice filled with desperation. "He’s not well! Please, mister, he’s not well!" she pleaded, her eyes wide with fear. She was about to join them in the garden when her son held her back, silently signaling that it was better for his father to bear the brunt of the punishment. Kate’s mouth tasted like vinegar, this was wrong.

“You think I give a shit about your family?” Arthur spat, his voice dripping with contempt.

“Why does it have to come to this?” Mr. Downes cried, shielding himself from Arthur's blows. “Please! Be reasonable!”

“We ain't a charity, Mr. Downes,” Arthur lowered himself to the man's level, his tone softening slightly. “Believe me, I didn’t want this either,” he added quietly, his regret palpable.

With a forceful grip, he grabbed Mr. Downes by his collar and shoved him against the post, the impact enough to break one of his ribs.

“That's enough, Arthur!” Kate roared, stepping closer, her eyes blazing with anger.

“I-I don't have the money,” Mr. Downes panted, struggling to catch his breath.

Arthur looked around at the scene, his frustration evident. “Then sell your wife,” he spat out, his voice laced with malice, “sell your house, I don't care!” He raised a fist and stopped when he heard the familiar click of a revolver.

He turned around to see Kate, pointing her gun at him, the expression on her face made his heart sink. There was no need for him to tell her the truth now, she saw everything she needed to see already.

“I said, that’s enough,” she repeated, her voice firm. “Put him down.” Arthur released Mr. Downes, who collapsed to his knees, coughing up blood. His wife rushed to his side, her face etched with concern.

“You gonna shoot me?” Arthur's voice was filled with bitterness. “Shoot me and take the $5000? Huh? That's your plan,” he continued, growing more agitated with each passing moment. “Well, get on with it!” he shouted.

“How much does he owe you?” Kate's voice cut through the tension, devoid of emotion.

Arthur lowered his hands, “what?”

“How much does he owe you?” she repeated, her tone impatient.

“$20,” Arthur answered reluctantly.

Kate holstered her weapon and pulled a wad of cash from her satchel, she counted out twenty bills and grabbed Arthur’s hand, shoving the money into his palm.

“Here, no sense in killin’ a man over $20,” she turned to the family, “Mrs. Downes, I suggest you take that man to a doctor. I heard you say he was unwell, and he probably has a broken rib or two now.”

Arthur stared at the money in his hand, his thoughts swirling like a storm. He wanted to hurl it to the ground and watch it burn.

The family lifted Mr. Downes and made their way to the wagon, “th-thank you,” she said, fear still evident in her voice.

Kate watched them depart, her gaze lingering until the sounds of the wagon faded into the distance. Turning to Arthur, who stood before her like a statue carved from stone.

“What the fuck was that?” she scolded, her tone sharp like a whip.

Arthur opened his mouth, then shut it, grappling for words like a fish out of water.

“You don't even have a reason do you? Beatin’ on a sick man like that? For $20?” Kate’s voice rose with each question.

As the seconds passed by Arthur felt embarrassment creep up his spine, his shame quickly manifesting into anger. “We ain’t a charity,” he finally muttered, repeating what he had said to Mr. Downes. His voice barely above a whisper, struggling to maintain his composure.

“So you resort to killing him,” she remarked, her voice tinged with disappointment as she observed his expression.

“I’m an outlaw Kate, I shoot first, ask questions later,” he spat.

“Yeah well that's a dumb fucken philosophy,” she retorted sharply , “you’re sure as shit an outlaw. But you ain’t a fucking monster Arthur. That man was sick , he had no way of defending himself. Strauss could’ve waited for his money.” She finished, striding towards her mare. The sense of disillusionment weighed heavy in her heart. She had glimpsed Arthur's tough exterior when they first met at Emerald Ranch, but she never imagined it would lead to this. It made her stomach churn.

“If you don't like the way we do things then you can leave,” Arthur's voice came from behind her, cutting through the tension like a knife.

Kate stopped in her tracks, why does this hurt so much? She’d known them for only a week, but the thought of leaving filled her with dread. It wasn't just the familiar and simple daily tasks of cooking and cleaning that anchored her to the camp; it was the friendships she had forged. They were the closest thing she had to a family in a decade.

She drew in a shaky breath and regained her composure, not turning to face him yet, “do you ever stop and think about what all this senseless killing will turn you into?” Before he could answer she finished for him, turning to meet his gaze, “When you kill an innocent, you become a little less of a man and little more of an animal.”

Without missing a beat Arthur had his answer, “then what you’re looking at ain’t human.” He sauntered over to Kate with slow purposeful steps. His anger was still present, but as he drew closer she saw the look in his eyes. They looked dead, and devoid of color. The sun was setting behind the mountains to the north, and a frigid wind brought in dark heavy clouds. As if the sky was a reflection of the turmoil in his heart. Darkness covered him like a blanket of shame. A heavy, suffocating blanket just waiting to bury the truth.

“My hands are so stained with blood,” he began, his voice wavering, “that I can’t even remember the face of the first innocent I killed,” he drew in a breath and looked at his boots, “that ain’t something you can change.”

The wind picked up, carrying tiny bullets of rainwater that tickled against her face. She watched him, and her heart panged. She wasn’t ready to tell him, and perhaps she’ll never get the chance to. But she related to the outlaw, more than she ever anticipated. Her mind raced, bringing back memories of faceless bodies and blood stained skin. Kate pushed the memory down, swallowing it like a spoon of molasses.

“I don’t intend to change that,” her voice, sounding like a whisper against the heavy wind.

“Then what do you intend Kate,” his voice sounded coarse, like his throat was thick, “why does a woman like you hang around a bunch of outlaws?”

Now it was Kate's turn to gape like a fish, she still didn't understand herself why she chose to stay. She wanted to think of them as family but she knew it was absurd, and most of the gang probably wouldn't feel the same way.

Arthur waited for her answer. “It’s better than being alone,” she finally said, thunder rumbled in around them like a giant beating a drum. “And I like them, they're good people.” She added feeling like an idiot for having no real reason for her to stay.

Arthur sighed and shook his head, turning to leave.

And suddenly, she realized the answer was walking away ,“and, I like you.”

When his eyes met hers, they were pleading, like it pained him to speak to her. “Then you’re a fool Kate. There ain’t nothing to like about me. I’m a bad man, and I ain’t gonna change.” He spoke as if he were reciting a poem he had memorized, the words flowing with such ease one would think he was trained, no , he was raised to believe it was true.

“I can’t escape this life. I don’t know how to live any other way,” he sounded like a small child.

“I don’t believe that Arthur,” Kate knew there was good in him, she’d seen it. And she considered herself to be a living testament that it’s not too late to change. She wanted to shout at him, to embrace him, to beat his chest and tell him to pick himself up and break the cycle .

Instead, she stood silently as Arthur shook his head once more, walked over to his horse, and left her at the ranch. Without a word.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The journey back felt like a whirlwind, the cold rain pelting down relentlessly, soaking Kate to the bone. She looked up to the familiar sound of a rowdy piano and drunken laughter, and was surprised to see herself outside the Valentine saloon. Having not paid much attention to her ride, her mind racing with thoughts, almost all of them about Arthur.

“Guess I should take the hint huh?” Kate chuckled wearily to Lorena, patting the mare's neck as she dismounted. She tied her under a small awning, sheltering from the downpour while she went in for a drink.

As she knocked the mud off her boots, a familiar voice called her name. She turned to see Charles waving from the nearby gun shop. In the dim light, his silhouette was unmistakable as he jogged over to meet her.

“I thought I recognized you riding in,” he greeted. “This storm’s a real beast. What brings you out here?” concern evident in his voice.

Kate contemplated her response. It's a long story, is what she wanted to say. “I could ask you the same,” she replied with a faint smile.

“I was just getting some supplies for hunting,” Charles explained, gesturing to the rain. “Planned on leaving tonight, but it seems I'm stuck here for now.”

“Bummer,” Kate remarked, her exhaustion seeping through her words. She craved a neat glass of whiskey to warm her aching bones.

Charles narrowed his eyes, sensing her distress. “Are you alright?” he asked gently.

She looked down at her boots and sighed, no sense in lying to him. It was clear she was upset. And she had been looking to talk to Charles more anyway.

“Honestly,” she huffed, “no, I’m not. Arthur and I collected a debt today and Arthur was just-” she trailed, unsure what to say. Charles was his friend, and she didn’t want to bad mouth him.

Understanding washed over Charles's face as he nodded sympathetically. “Arthur was being Arthur,” he murmured.

Kate bit her lip, “yeah.” Her disappointment deepened as she realized she had Arthur all wrong.

“Let me buy you a drink,” Charles suggested, holding the saloon doors open with a warm smile.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

In a secluded corner upstairs, Kate slouched in a rickety chair, whiskey warming her insides. Charles, equally deep in his cups, listened attentively as she recounted the events at the Downes ranch.

“And then he told me I shoot first, ask questions later ,” she mimicked in Arthurs familiar southern drawl, “it's barbaric!”

He chucked taking a swig of his drink, “that’s a dumb fucken philosophy,” he agreed.

Kate laughed as she slammed her glass on the table, “that's exactly what I said!”

They both laughed together over the coincidence, Kate’s heart felt lighter. It felt good to vent to someone, someone other than the girls. Not that she didn’t love them, but Charles was refreshing, he was new, and he was close to Arthur. She felt safe knowing that Charles saw a different side of him too.

His laughter quieted and went back to his usual deep comforting tone, “I’m sorry Kate, Arthur is,” he hesitated, searching for the right answer, “a complicated man.”

“I can see that,” she said quietly, her face still hot from a mix of whiskey and laughter.

“The man has a heart of gold,” he added, “but it's buried deep beneath his outlaw code.”

Kate didn’t understand, Charles was part of the same gang, but even he disapproved of his code, “I don’t get it,” she began, the words seemingly harder to pronounce, “you’s an outlaw too.”

Charles shook his head, his gaze steady, “I am, and I’ve had my moments, I’ll admit,” he lifted a hand as if he were swearing on a Bible, “but I don’t hurt innocent people.” Kate said nothing, choosing to stare at the water stains on the wooden table, her drunken vision making them twist shape.

He leaned in closer, “there’s a good man within him Kate. But he is wrestling with a giant, and the giant wins. Time, and time again.”

She thought she mumbled something along the lines of I know what that is like but the words barely came out. A heavy tiredness taking over, the alcohol bringing her down like a vessel struck in water. Kate heard a chuckle from Charles, in the next moment he was under her arm and leading her to a room.

“Stay here tonight, get some sleep on an actual bed,” he urged softly. Kate made no protest as her head sank into the feathered pillow. Her body melted into the sheets.

“I’ll be leaving in the morning,” he murmured from the doorway, “you should come hunting with me.” Kate tried to say yes, but all that came out was a hum, like a cicada quieting its song as darkness descended.

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