#rdr2fanfiction | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

morston-trash · 4 years

Text

Content

This is a Morston Fanfic that I wrote in between other works. It is trash but I am happy with it and felt like I needed to post it somewhere.

----------------------------

No smut, the most that happens is making out. Alcohol consumption.

John looked around, making sure that no one was around to witness him. Even in his drunken state, he knew this was a bad idea. Arthur would probably punch him if he found him in his room. But he, Dutch, and Hosea had gone out on a scouting trip, making sure that no lawmen had followed them this far. It was just the four males, the four outlaws. It had been that way ever since John had joined the ragtag group when he was a boy. Now, he was a young man. A drunken fool of a man perhaps, but a young man nonetheless. There were three rooms in the cabin they were holed up in for the winter. The two older men thought it was too brutal of a winter to be moving around from place to place, living in their tents. John, being the youngest, was situated on the sorry excuse for a couch that was provided in their temporary home. Artur had offered to share a room with him, but his stubborn pride forced him to refuse the offer. That's what he was going to go with. Not the fact that he was hopelessly in love with the older man. No, that wasn't possible. Even if it was, the youngest man would never admit it to anyone but himself. It was clear, no one was around to catch him in Arthur's room. He entered the dark room. Almost immediately, the intoxicating smell of the older man overtook his senses. The entire room smelt of its inhabitant, Arthur Morgan. Cheap whiskey, cigarettes, gunpowder, sweat, and horses. All things that, when combined together, made up the smell of the blonde-headed brute. It brought warmth to the younger male's insides, one that he couldn't explain. 'It's just the whiskey,' he thought to himself. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it, but it only made him dizzy. The entire room was spinning. He stumbled over to Arthur's cot that was situated against the middle of the back wall. He practically fell onto the uncomfortable piece of furniture. He didn't even attempt to get up, he knew that he would just fall down again. Shit, he had never been this drunk before. He didn't even remember why he had decided to down the bottle of whiskey. Just for the hell of it? To drown his sorrows? To chase away the harsh cold? All of the thinking he was doing was hurting his head, not an uncommon occurrence for the raven-haired male. As gravity held him against the cot, he felt something underneath him. John shifted just enough that he could pull it out from underneath himself. His vision was blurred from the alcohol, but he managed to make it out. It was Arthur's light leather jacket that he wore when it wasn't quite cold enough for his large, fur-lined, denim duster. He pulled it up to his face, inhaling deeply. He took in every bit of Arthur's scent. In his current state, he decided that it would be a good idea to wear the jacket. Slipping his arms into the sleeves, he put it on. It swallowed him. The owner was a broad, muscular, mature man while he was a thin, scrappy, young man. The drink had a hold on him, making his eyelids feel heavier than they ever had before. He fought to keep his eyes open. But the more he struggled to stay awake, the harder it became to keep conscious. Before he had even known it, he had passed out in Arthur's room, on his cot, wearing his jacket, and smelling of booze.

"Now remember, keep your heads down. We don't need to draw any unwanted attention. That means keeping an eye on John as well, Arthur," Dutch explained. "That's right, we don't need him getting into any trouble. Just long enough for us to wait out this bitterly cold winter," Hosea chimed in. "But why me? Y'all will need help, ya ain't exactly young no more," Arthur laughed to cover up his displeasure. Sure, he and the younger man got along well. But John was hotheaded, cocky, hard to control sometimes. He didn't much like the idea of being stuck with him for the next few months. "Because he looks up to you, he'll listen to you once you get through to him. We're not as old as you would like to imagine either," Dutch said, seemingly ending the discussion and leaving Arthur with his thoughts. Hosea looked back to him sympathetically, knowing just how hard this would be for Mogan. He may be a big brute who naturally took charge, but he absolutely hated babysitting. He always felt he could b doing things that were actually of use, helpful, getting things done was what he lived for. He liked to be of use. Babysitting the younger man wasn't exactly what he considered being useful, even if Dutch thought otherwise. His word was final, so it looked like he would be stuck with John attached to his hip at all times. The ride back to the cabin was mostly quiet, the occasional sound coming from the horses or a complaint about the cold being the only noise to be heard. The snow made the ride harder on the horses, so they hadn't strayed far from their temporary home. They didn't want to overwork or injure the animals. That would be just as bad as being without. As they came upon the homestead in which they were staying, the trio made their way to the barn opposite from the cabin. They dismounted before leading the horses into the wooden structure. Arthur leads his American Paint mare into her stall before removing her tack. Dutch led his Thoroughbred stallion into the stall across from Arthur's, following suite. Hosea put his Tenessee Walker mare into the stall beside Dutch, across from where John's Andalusian stallion was kept. Once all of the horses were tended to, free of tack, and settled in, the pair left the outbuilding and made their way to the house. Arthur made it inside first, noticing almost immediately the frigid air inside of the cabin. Turning his head towards the fireplace, he noticed that the fire had gone out. Marston had let the fire go out. He sighed before making his way over to salvage the dying embers. He would have to gripe at him later. It was too cold to be forgetting to tend the fire. As he got to the fireplace, his father figures ade their way inside as well. He saw that they knew what had happened, it shone in their eyes. They chose not to say anything. Once the dirty blonde headed man had saved them from freezing to death, he scanned the room for the younger man. He was nowhere to be seen. He wasn't in the building as far as he could tell. Ah, shit, he would have to go looking for the boy. He was already proving to be an annoyance. "Dutch, Hosea! Have y'all seen John?" the man yelled to the pair of older men. "No," Dutch responded from his room. "I haven't, maybe he went outside!" Hosea called from the couch. Arthur shook his head. He didn't want to go back out there, he just got back. He decided to wait, just in case, he came back. He made his way to his room, it was the first door leading from the main room. The sight that greeted him brought a flood of feelings flying to his chest. There the boy was, passed out drunk on his cot and wearing his jacket. He was almost cute like this, peaceful and calm. But he was in his spot. He made his way over to the younger man. Pressing his boot against his back, he pushed him off of the cot. "H-hey..! What the hell... Morgan? What are you doing here?" the raven headed man asked, confused. "More like what are you doing here? And why are ya wearing my jacket, Marston?" Arthur teases. He didn't actually mind, he just wanted to mess with the boy. He watched the confusion pool inside of the younger man as he looked around. It took only moments for him to figure out where he was. He was in Arthur's room. Shit, just what had he done while he was in his drunken stupor? His head throbbed, trying to remember anything that would be helpful. He drew blanks, unable to think of a valid excuse. "Oh, um... I, uh... Um, I-I..." He stuttered before giving up. He was certain that Arthur already knew. It was obvious. He wasn't even going to try to make up an excuse. He just sat down on the wooden floor, looking down. Embarrassment ran hot through him, his face flushing. He didn't know quite what to do. He wasn't one to show emotion, but he couldn't hide the look of embarrassment and pain on his face. Hot tears threatened to pool into his eyes, but he pushed them away. He wouldn't give the asshole the satisfaction. Arthur almost felt bad, he could hear John sniffling. Of course, he knew exactly why John was in here. He could smell the whiskey radiating off of the younger man. He could hear him calling his name when he had a nightmare. The boy talked in his sleep. He was easy to read, too. He shook his head slightly, John was a god damned mess. However, he couldn't say that he disliked these qualities of his. He found them to be adorable, despite the rough demeanor of the younger man. As much as he wanted to pounce on the younger man, to kiss him and so much more, he held his ground and controlled himself. He refused to take advantage of him. He was drunk and obviously not in any state for rational thinking. He sighed, shaking his head once again. This was so much trouble already. "Let's get ya up and outta here," Arthur suggested calmly. "Yeah," John mumbled, barely audible. Arthur walked to the other side of the cot. Extending his hand towards the younger man, he reached for his hand. John grabbed it, using Arthur to pull himself up. Once standing, he attempted to stumble a few steps forward. However, he failed. He fell back down onto the cabin floor. He attempted to get up by himself, but the whiskey's grip had turned his legs to jelly. He was frustrated, why did things like this always happen to him. It was just like Arthur always said, he really is a mess. He couldn't help but take comfort in those words. The older man was always there for him, to pull him out of whatever trouble he managed to stir up. He was the only one that cared enough to. As much as his father figures loved him, they'd rather just run away, flee to the next town. If it wasn't for the dirty blonde, they would have been run out of every town they had ever visited. That was just one of the many reasons he loved the older male. Arthur stood there, pity in his eyes. He knew John was embarrassed about this whole situation. Helping him would only make it worse. The boy had the stubborn pride of an angry bull. He wasn't scared even in the slightest of the other male, but he didn't feel like making this more difficult than it had to be. There had to be a way to somehow fix this. Suddenly an idea formed in his brain. The sound of the other man's boots crossing the wooden floor brought him out of his self-pitying thoughts. John raised his head to look at Arthur. There was a twinkle of mischief in his gorgeous blue-green eyes. Just what was that man up to? He gave him a confused look, hoping to get an explanation. He was not granted that pleasure. The older man loved to tease, to confuse him. Without any sort of warning, Arthur grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him close. John's heart beat furiously at the sudden closeness. The older man examined the younger, scanning his face for any sort of negative reaction. As expected: he found no objections. With that taken care of, he smashed his lips against the raven-haired man. John's eyes widened in surprise. The man he loved, Arthur Morgan, was kissing him. Without thinking, he kissed back. 'Good boy,' Arthur thought to himself. He would have said it out loud had his lips not been busy devouring the taste of John's. He quickly slid his arms under Marston, not giving him a chance to complain. Their lips didn't part, instead, the kiss deepened. Arthur ran his tongue across John's bottom lip, asking for permission. He obliged, eagerly parting his lips for his superior. This was wrong, taking advantage of the still tipsy man, but he wasn't going to do anything extreme. He would never allow himself to do that. He would keep himself reigned in, despite how badly he wanted the younger man. He carried the pair of them to his cot, sitting down before placing John down beside him. He broke the kiss, separating so that they could catch their breath. John was a blushing mess, a sight that Arthur quite enjoyed. He couldn't hide his smirk. He felt like a wolf preying on a lamb, not an incorrect comparison. He lay down before pulling John to his chest. The cot was just barely big enough for the pair. John's smaller body was pressed snuggly against Arthur's more muscular frame. "Sleep it off, ya drunken idiot," Arthur teased. "W-whatever, Morgan," John growled playfully. The younger male rested his head against his superior's shoulder. He was so comfortable, so content, so damn happy. Could it get any better? Probably not. He had been waiting for this for so long, and here it was. He was over the moon with excitement and joy. He couldn't sleep. He was in too good of a mood to rest. The kiss had chased away the remainder of his drunkenness. He wouldn't let Morgan know that of course. But he was content for once in his life and you could bet that he was going to enjoy this.

#arthur x john #arthur morgan #arthurmorgan #john marston #johnmartson #john x arthur #morston #rdr2 #reddeadredemption2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2fanfiction #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #arthur morgan x john marston

62 notes · View notes

annaphoenix1994 · 2 years

Text

Masterlist Here:

Epilogue Part 2 - Motherhood

The following morning slowly came around, followed by the intense anguish between John and Abigail. He felt foolish for not trying to make ends meet, but something about his words he spoke - his mind told him that he wasn't wrong, although he thought he should be. Rising from his pallet on the floor, he struggled to stretch his sore and aching muscles as he looked around, seeing that the sun had risen, looking as if it were almost ten a.m. Sighing, he quickly freshened up, dressing in his attire for the day as he didn't bother to tell Abigail and Jack about his dismissal. After all, it was just another normal day on the ranch.

Or so he thought...

Tacking up his mare after his morning chores, he rode along the fenceline, ensuring that his work was holding up. As well as ensuring all of the livestock were accounted for. "Hey, Mister Jim?" He heard Abe shout from the barn.

"Abe?"

"Uh, there's a telegram messenger for you. Over there, near the house."

"There is?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay," John sighed, confused as to who would be sending him a telegram. "Thanks, Abe."

Approaching the house, a well-groomed, sharp equestrian had been tending to his horse, sorting through his saddlebag in search of the telegram for the address, startled by John's presence after he arrived. "'Scuse me, Mister. I'm Jim Milton. Heard you had a telegram for me?"

"Yes, here you go. Sign here for me, please." The man responded, handing John the telegram and a ledger for his records.

"Thank you, Mister."

"Don't mention it!"

John sighed, looking around before opening the telegram, unable to recognize the text at first:

JIM =

IF YOU'RE THE J.M. I KNOW =

IT'S SADIE ADLER. I'VE GOT SOMETHING TO DISCUSS. PAY GOOD. MEET ME IN THE SALOON IN VALENTINE. I'M THERE MOST DAYS =

"Sadie Adler," John scoffed in disbelief. "I'll be damned." He said to himself, beginning his trek back towards the cabin in excitement to tell Abigail about the reunion of an old friend, hoping her anger had subsided as it had been a few hours since he had left for work. "Abigail?" He asked, looking around to see no sign of his partner, even his own son. Not a book left behind. Tilting his head in confusion, he slowly approached the letter laying on the empty table:

𝓓𝓪𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓙𝓸𝓱𝓷,

𝓐 𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓭 𝓵𝓪𝓭𝔂 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓿𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓪𝓰𝓮 𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓹𝓮𝓭 𝓶𝓮 𝔀𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼. 𝓢𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓪𝓭 𝓶𝓮𝓷 𝓹𝓻𝓸𝓫𝓵𝓮𝓶𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓸𝔀𝓷, 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽'𝓼 𝓪 𝓭𝓲𝓯𝓯𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂. 𝓛𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓷, 𝓘'𝓿𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓰𝓰𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓲𝓽 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓼𝓮𝓮𝓶 𝓽𝓸 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓶𝓾𝓬𝓱 𝓭𝓲𝓯𝓯𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮. 𝓘'𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓭 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓘 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓽𝓸 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓰𝓻𝓸𝔀 𝓾𝓹. 𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓘 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓶𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓼 𝓘 𝓬𝓪𝓷'𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝓽𝓬𝓱 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼. 𝓣𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓪𝓯𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝔀𝓮'𝓿𝓮 𝓱𝓪𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓻𝓾𝓷 𝓫𝓮𝓬𝓪𝓾𝓼𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓫𝓮𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓻 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓭𝓮𝓬𝓲𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼. 𝓦𝓮 𝓰𝓸𝓽 𝓪 𝓼𝓸𝓷. 𝓘 𝓰𝓸𝓽 𝓪 𝓼𝓸𝓷. 𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝓘 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓼𝓸𝓷 𝓮𝓷𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓘 𝓬𝓪𝓷'𝓽 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓱𝓲𝓶 𝓪𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭 𝔀𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼. 𝓘 𝓱𝓪𝓭 𝓼𝓸 𝓶𝓪𝓷𝔂 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓼, 𝓙𝓸𝓱𝓷. 𝓘 𝓱𝓸𝓹𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮. 𝓦𝓮 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓼𝓪𝔀 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓭𝓲𝓭𝓷'𝓽, 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 - 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓲𝓼 𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓫𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓸𝓷 𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓾𝓹 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓪𝓶𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝔂. 𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝓘 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓸𝓸 𝓶𝓾𝓬𝓱 𝓽𝓸 𝔀𝓪𝓽𝓬𝓱 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓷𝓸 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮.

𝓐𝓫𝓲𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓵

Sighing, John folded the note delicately into his shirt pocket, removing his hat and running his fingers through his hair, letting his anger and frustrations let loose that she decided to leave him. Groaning, he stood to his feet and kneeled to the parcel she had gotten for him that neither of them were too upset to open. Loosening the twine, he slowly opened the package, seeing a denim vest that looked to be rather handy, followed by a new hat and riding gloves.

"Where's the wife, Milton?" Mister Dickens asked as he had stood in the doorway for a couple of moments.

"Erm... She's out." John replied, rubbing his beard.

"I saw her leavin' with the boy... And the bags. What's goin' on?"

"You married, Mister Dickens?"

"No."

"That don't surprise me."

"What she do? Catch you with a showgirl? Or hear about you shooting more fellers over by Strawberry? Just who are you, Jim Milton?"

John scoffed, standing to his feet and walking towards the coat rack. "I'm a family man. I can handle a gun, sure. Them men shot at me."

"Just interested, that's all."

"Ain't nothing interesting. Unless you find gossip about another man's marriage worthy of your time."

"Guess not. There's work to be done, unless you're running off too?"

"I ain't goin' nowhere. I'm here to work. Gotta save money and get her what she wants, I guess."

"What does she want?"

"She wants a place of her own. Said she found a plot up at Beecher's Hope."

"You? A rancher? You'll starve." Dickens scoffed.

"Well, I'll be sure to starve before I ask you for help then, huh?"

Dickens chuckled, astonished at John's response, but also feeling like he had been threatened, "There's work to be done. Keep yourself busy. Take your mind off of it."

───※ ·❆· ※───

January, 1908

John had been relentlessly working throughout every hour of daylight he could get. Usually up at five a.m. and coming in for the night around nine p.m. He forced himself to stay busy, the continuous heartache of losing Abigail and Jack weighing heavily on his chest. Feeling desperate in his lonely hours, he vowed to keep his promise of giving Abigail what she truly dreamed for.

Beecher's Hope.

"Well, that's her full." Abe sighed after he and John hoisted two large bales of hay into the back of a wagon heading to Hanging Dog Ranch, helping the Blake's for the rest of the winter, John still unaware that Blake was Arthur and Minnie's alias, the word keeping their wolves away for the past nine years.

"Hey, you know, I was wrong about you," He heard Mister Dickens admit. "You've turned into a fine worker, Jim Milton."

"Ah, thank you. Means a lot. Hey, you think I could speak with Mister Geddes? See if maybe he could offer me some guidance?"

"I'm sure he'd be happy to hear you speak at least."

"Thank you, Mister Dickens." John nodded, proceeding to make his way towards the main house.

"Mister Milton?" The Geddes boy answered the door, looking baffled as he wasn't used to a ranchhand visiting the main house.

"Hey, son. Is your father in? Could I have a word?"

"Sure, I'll just get him. Wait here."

John nodded, turning away to lean against the banister of the porch, taking a few breaths before hearing Mister Geddes' grunts from descending the stairs. "What's the problem, Mister Milton?"

"I'm sorry for the disturbance, sir."

"Oh, no problem. My wife, she just began her morning discourse on the subject of my faults. An experience I think every man can relate to."

"In some ways. My wife... My wife also has issues with some of the decisions I've made. Real issues. Do you believe a man can change, sir?"

"Where is this heading?"

"I guess I don't know. I've tried to be a good hand. I've worked hard to secure your property..."

"And for that we are grateful."

"And you've paid me well, besides. The thing is, I suppose, I need to get a place of my own so I can prove to my wife that I've changed."

"I understand."

"But, I ain't got much money. I ain't asking to borrow none, but maybe you could go to the bank and put in a good word so they could give me a loan?"

"A loan, huh?"

"So I can buy that place, Beecher's Hope?"

"Yes, I know it. Yes of course, sure. It'd be my pleasure. But take my advice, Milton. Take your money and go buy passage on a boat. Go to Brazil and forget all about family. I'm just joking, son."

John chuckled, sighing, "I was hoping so. I'm not much of a swimmer, nor am I a fan of boats."

"Ah, there isn't anything to be afraid of when it comes to water travel. The White Star Line is popular nowadays. Go get you a passage to England or somewhere. Get out of the country once. You won't regret it. The only thing I regret is coming back!" He chuckled. "Again, I'm joking, son."

"I've had a few friends who've gotten on a boat and regretted getting on it in the first place. Let's just say I haven't heard from any of them in almost ten years." John joked, referring to when members of his former gang had gotten stranded in Guarma.

"Just make sure you deal with Ansel Atherton at the bank. He's a distant cousin. Use my name and tell him to ask for me directly himself. You'll get what you need."

"Thank you, sir."

"Yeah, I was young and dumb once too... You'll get her back."

Excitement coursing through his veins, John rushed to the cabin, packing his small amount of belongings, all of them fitting into his saddlebags on his mare. He had put the gift Abigail had gotten him on his torso, the rough material perfect for being out in nature and the riding gloves keeping his hands protected. Ensuring his revolver was loaded, he swung his leg over his mare's back, trotting up to the exit gate of the ranch, taking one last look at Pronghorn Ranch before making his way to Valentine.

'Gotta keep the wolves away, John, gotta keep those wolves away...'

#arthurmorgan #minniebarlow #reddeadredemption2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 #rdr2fanfiction

3 notes · View notes

annaphoenix1994 · 2 years

Text

Masterlist Here:

Epilogue Part 2 - Jim Milton Rides Again

The next evening was rather warm for John's liking as he proceeded with his late chores, distributing flakes of alfalfa hay to the horses and restocking the straw for the nesting boxes in the chicken coop before an authoritative voice disturbed his morning silence. "Mister Milton! I'd like to have a word with you!"

"Mister Geddes?" John greeted, approaching the owner and his wife standing at the barn.

"Hey, I heard we had another incident with the Laramie boys?" He questioned.

John nodded, "Yeah, there was an incident..."

"Well, they mean to scare me."

"And are you scared?"

"A little. I-I've got a lot invested into this place and not just the land, but my family! It's uh, it's hard to explain."

"I understand. I'll do my best to keep you safe, sir."

"I know you will. So, how's your family?"

"Just fine. I should probably head back. I've been out with chores all mornin' and left before they woke up." He chuckled.

"Yeah, I know how it is. See you around, Mister Milton."

"How'd you get on?" Abigail asked, wiping her hands on her apron, watching John enter the cabin, his growing beard hiding the scars on his face.

"Okay, I guess."

"Better?"

"Sure. I'm just tired."

"I know," She grumbled, not even looking as if she believed him. "Sit down and have some lunch." She directed, setting a plate of food in front of John, seeing the grimace on his face as he wasn't much of a fan of her cooking, but he knew it was either eat what she made or starve.

The family ate in silence. Jack was lost in reading a new book, John ate slowly, staring at his supply of food on the table, and Abigail stared at her fork, looking as if it were holding a secret. "A-Anybody want some more?"

"No, thank you." Jack and John both answered together.

"Hell, I miss Mister Pearson." He commented.

"John Marston, you are such a pig!" She scoffed, a laugh breathing through her lips.

"What? You always say you wanted me to be honest!" He replied, Jack laughing at his comment.

"Well, finish what you got, then. It's getting late."

───※ ·❆· ※───

The night sky was clear, painted with idle stars that assisted the moonlight lighting the trails for nightly travelers. John slept peacefully for once, his head heavy and his breathing consistent. All disturbed by a single gunshot erupting from the valley. "What the hell was that?!" He groaned, standing to his feet quickly, feeling like he had stepped back in time to where he was constantly on edge while sleeping, never knowing when an ambush from another gang would emerge. Worse enough, the Pinkertons. For a brief moment, he was terrified that someone had figured out who he and his family were, turning them in for his bounty. To his relief, there wasn't a mob awaiting him outside ready to collect the federal reward.

"W-Wha... What're you doing?" Abigail groaned, rubbing her eyes.

"My job, Abigail," He sighed, slipping on his boots over his union suit. "Lock this door behind me. Don't open it unless you know it's me." He directed, giving her no chance to reply before he dashed out of the door and towards the disturbance.

───※ ·❆· ※───

"Momma! Daddy!" They heard Isaac yell, rushing towards his parent's bed, awaking Arthur in a hurry.

"What is it, son? You alright?" He replied, his eyes wide and alert, Minnie raising up rather quickly, her instincts telling her that Isaac wasn't rushing into their room to tell them about his nightmare.

"I-I think the boogeyman is outside!" He cried.

"You sure it wasn't your papaw Hosea?" Arthur asked him, letting his son wrap his arms around his neck.

"No! Papaw can't run that fast! The boogeyman has friends, Daddy. I-I'm scared!"

Arthur looked over at Minnie, both of them sharing a glance at each other before hearing a gunshot from the distance, sounding like it had come from the neighboring ranch across the river. "Mister Geddes' men don't go shootin' this late." She furrowed her brows at Arthur before getting up from bed, slipping on her shoes to investigate the noise.

"I don't think so. You stay in here. I'll go get Hosea and Charles." Arthur directed her, watching her pout briefly as he knew her trigger itch was immense. Although they both loved their new lives as free citizens, they both missed the adrenaline rush of riding into battle on their horses, guns in their hands, fleeing from the law. It was addicting, but it was good while it lasted. Surely, if they would've stayed with their sins, neither of them would have gotten this far.

She gave him a short nod, knowing not to argue with Arthur's protective nature as Isaac was in the mix now. If he hadn't been born, he wouldn't have had much of a problem with Minnie joining him in another gunfight. He rushed down the stairs after slipping on his trousers, his Winchester in hand as he rushed to slip on his boots, his now-sweating chest heaving as the top button on his union suit had opened, cold air rushing against his skin as he exited the front door, rushing towards the bunkhouse to awake Hosea and Charles.

"Charles! Hosea! Wake up! We got a problem!" Arthur knocked, knowing Maria was in the bunkhouse with Charles, respecting her privacy.

"What is it, Arthur?" Hosea grumbled, stumbling to the door, wiping crust from his eyes.

"You mean to tell me you didn't hear that gunshot, old man?" Arthur poked.

"Why hell no. Someone's probably out huntin'!" He scoffed, his stature stiffening as another gunshot sounded, along with a few shouts as if a mob of Indians were nearby chanting their battle cry.

"Sounds like a mighty fine hunt to me, don't ya think?" Arthur arched his brow.

"Charles! Get up! We gotta go!"

"What is it?"

"No questions! Let's go!"

"I'll meet you two in the barn, alright?" Arthur asked.

"No, Arthur. You stay out of this. You got that boy now."

"What happened to no questions?" Arthur repeated. "I'll meet you two at the barn."

Hosea and Charles sprinted towards the barn, rushing to ensure their weapons were loaded as Arthur had tacked up their horses for them, quickening the process. He loaded a bullet into his Winchester, resting the stock of the weapon against his thigh as he sat high on Dahlia, who had been antsy as she remembered her time as a getaway horse, her prime years being in an active gang. "It's comin' from Geddes' ranch," Arthur explained, watching Hosea and Charles mount their horses. "I see cattle roamin' everywhere. Them Laramie boys need to be taken care of." He grumbled.

"I see fire, too." Hosea sighed.

"So much for leaving that life behind." Charles frowned.

"I guess it'll come in handy from time to time. Let's go." Arthur said, letting Dahlia gallop towards the disturbance, the men riding towards the river to get a closer look.

Once at the river, the men observed the area, seeing cattle spread out across the land. Some drinking from the river, some running for their lives. "There they are," Hosea pointed. "Them Laramie boys. Looks like three of Geddes' men chasin' after them."

"Let's go take care of it, then." Arthur grumbled.

"You should stay here, Arthur. Your wife will kill me if I go back tellin' her you got killed over your pride."

"I don't think we got much time to argue about this right now. Them boys are haulin' towards us!"

"Shoot!" Charles shouted, taking the first shot as he noticed one of the gang members aiming their revolver at Arthur. The cattle began to spook again, stampeding towards the open field ahead, ready to take down anything in their path.

The last two Laramie boys crossed the river, causing the trio of Mister Geddes' wranglers to slow their horses, only able to see each other's silhouettes. "We got these two! Go get your cattle!" Arthur commanded to them, assuming that none were capable of defending their own when it came to firearms.

Little did he know, John was the leader of the pack, picking up on his familiar accent, but not knowing for sure. Instead, he asked no questions nor tried getting a better look at the neighbor. Instead, he did as he was told.

Thinking that the remaining Laramie boys that had been shot after crossing the river by Arthur and Hosea, they assumed they were clear from any more trouble, focusing ahead on helping Mister Geddes' wranglers gather their cattle, which was far easier than taking on a gang of outlaws.

That was until he heard a familiar scream and a few curse words.

Minnie.

"Goddammit!" Arthur shouted, spurring Dahlia into a gallop towards their house, luckily, he wasn't too far away from the front gate. Looking to his right, he saw the three wranglers riding ahead to get their cattle. Ahead of him stood three more Laramie boys, one of them exiting Arthur and Minnie's house, the other two keeping guard out front.

"I'm assumin' you're the husband?" He scoffed.

"And your worst nightmare." Arthur corrected.

"I doubt that. Listen, Mister, you got yourself a nice lookin' wife here. Better lookin' than the other wife across the river. Won't you just let us take her and save us all the bother? I ain't in the mood to fight another man."

"Then how's about you fight a woman." He heard her growl, using her elbow to hit her captor bluntly between his ribs, knocking the air from his lungs as he loosened his grip on her, giving her enough time to turn around to deliver a blow to his groin with her knee before grabbing his hair, holding his head steady as she brought her knee to his nose as Arthur and Hosea took action, shooting the two remaining gang members who had no time to react due to Minnie's distraction.

Arthur dismounted Dahlia and ran to his wife, examining her, ensuring that she was alright, growing angry as he took note of her now-messy hair and bleeding lip, letting him know that some altercation took place inside at one point. "Where's Isaac?" He asked, cupping her face.

"Hidin'. I heard them boys coming close to the house, so I told him to hide up in the loft." She panted, wanting to rest her head on Arthur's chest.

"He didn't see anything, did he?"

"I hope not," She sniffled. "I ran downstairs to make it look like I wasn't hiding anything. I would've killed all three of 'em if they got a hold of our baby."

"I don't doubt it, darlin'. Hosea, let's get rid of these bodies before the boy starts gettin' curious."

"Sure, Arthur. Charles?"

"We got 'em taken care of! Thanks Mister Blake!" He heard one of the wranglers shout from the distance, waving his free arm as the other two riders kept the herd of cattle secure.

Arthur nodded, waving back, "Thank you!"

───※ ·❆· ※───

"You did real well, Mister Milton. You can really fight." Mister Dickens complemented.

"Ah, it weren't nothin'."

"You! You, sir! You save-"

"No need to thank for savin', sir. I'm just doing my job," John assured Mister Geddes. "Now, I don't think they'll be back tonight, but how about Abe here, you stay up, just in case."

"Yep, I'll do it!"

"You see anything or hear anything, you fire that rifle three times."

"Three times. Got it."

"We'll all come running."

"Will do."

"Well said, and thank you, Mister Milton. Truly." Mister Geddes said as he and John were now walking away from the corral after successfully bringing the entire herd back.

"Just glad to be of service, sir."

"I understand. You get some rest. Tend to chores when you wake up. You sleep in, Mister Milton!"

"Thank you, Mister Geddes!"

John entered the cabin, seeing an angry Abigail sitting at the table, candlelight glowing against her skin. She looked beyond irritated. "What?"

No response, just a grimace of disgust on Abigail's face, her lip curling as she watched him remove his gunbelt and boots. "What?" He repeated. "What choice did I have? Just answer me that."

She scoffed, standing to her feet before marching towards the bed, "You don't lay with me no more, John Marston."

"What was I supposed to do? Just sit and watch? Huh?"

She turned to her side, her back facing John as he looked at her, waving her hand as she never wanted to talk to him in this state again.

#arthurmorgan #minniebarlow #reddeadredemption2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 #rdr2fanfiction

2 notes · View notes

annaphoenix1994 · 2 years

Text

Masterlist Here:

Epilogue Part 2 - Fatherhood, for Idiots

John returned to the cabin after hard morning labor, frost nipping at his fingertips and sweat beaming on his forehead. Engulfed in the warmth of the cabin, John shucked his coat from his shoulders, watching Abigail leaning over the sink while Jack was on his bed, reading a book by Evelyn Miller. "How you gettin' on?" She asked him.

"Surviving... I think." John sighed.

"Here, I'll get you some coffee."

"Only thing I know how to do is, well, you know, undertakers like me. Cattle? Not so much."

"That ain't true."

John scoffed, "I ain't no rancher. Rustled horses, not raised 'em. Stole cattle, not birthed 'em..."

"I was readin' the newspaper. I was reading about a old ranch, Beecher's Hope, down by Blackwater."

"Was you?"

"Well, Jack read it to me, but, I thought maybe we could raise some money, bank could lend us the rest. We could be happy, John, we could-"

"Bank loans? I got a goddamn price on my head, woman!"

"I know! I know all about that! Every time we about to get somewhere, make something, you go and show the entire world that you ain't Jimmy Milton! Every place we've been, it's been the same. We start doin' okay, and then boom! You act like the big man with the gun. I'm tired, John, and I guess I was dreamin' a little. At least give me that." She teared up.

"Just feel hopeless..." He sighed, hanging his head low.

"You're... You're doing better." She assured him, waiting to add more words of encouragement before a soft knock rasped the door.

"Guess I can never get a lunch break around here." He sighed.

"Milton?"

"Come in."

"Milton, ma'am, Mister Geddes needs you to head over to Strawberry in the wagon and collect some mail for him at the post office."

"Sure," John replied. "I'll take the boy with me. He's getting soft. Lancelot!"

"Come on," Abigail barked at the young boy. "Jim, if you're heading that way, can you pick up a parcel for me? A dress I ordered. I think it's in your name."

"My name?"

"I-I think so. One's in your name and the other's in mine. Only one should've come in by now." She explained.

"How much shopping have you done?"

"Oh yes, a real keen purchaser of goods me. Look at me. Now get goin'."

"Okay," John shrugged, patting Jack on the shoulder. "Okay, Lancelot, we'll make a man of you yet."

"Not too much of a man, mind he's only a boy!"

"Just gonna show him how to drive the wagon a little. We'll save the real exciting realities of adulthood for another day."

"You take care now!"

"Of course. We'll be back by dark."

───※ ·❆· ※───

"I think this'll do us," Charles added as he and Arthur exited the butcher's shop, collecting the money from the processed hides they had delivered. "We'll have to come back tomorrow to get supplies."

"I know," Arthur sighed, scratching his long beard before combing his hair behind his ear. "I think we should split what we each got and put it into the safe. Gotta save up some more money if another baby is on the way." He continued, a sly smirk on his lips.

"Good idea, Arthur. Wanna get something to eat while we're here? It's only noon."

"Sure."

The men walked across the muddy street towards the hotel, seeing an open table on the front balcony that was meant for diners and renters alike as their day was long ahead as the first hard frost of autumn began to take its toll on the crops.

───※ ·❆· ※───

"Hi, I'm here to-"

"Name?"

"Uh, my name? Uh, Jim Milton." He answered, entering the post office, sweating bullets at the clerk's suspicious demeanor.

"Jim Milton..." He hummed, looking at his cabinet of awaiting parcels for pick-up. "Nope, nothin' here."

"Maybe try... John Marson." He said, keeping his tone low as there was another man in the room, unaware that the stranger in the room was an active bounty hunter, his head turning at the sound of John's last name.

"Okay... John Marston. Marston... Nope, nothin' here for that name either."

"Try Abigail Roberts."

"Abigail Roberts..." The clerk repeated before returning back to his cabinet. "Abigail Roberts... Yes, here we are."

"And also I'm here to pick up the deliveries for Pronghorn Ranch. David Geddes sent me."

"Pronghorn? Yes... Uh, uh, sign here. We have a bunch of stuff for you. And I will help you out."

"I'll take these." John offered after signing the document, taking the two packages before walking out of the door towards his wagon.

"Here, let me help you with this, Mister Marston." The clerk said, two bags in hand.

"Marston?" Arthur added, his head springing up from his plate of hot food. "Did I hear that right?"

"I didn't hear nothing, Arthur." Charles replied, chewing his food.

"I swear the post feller said Marston. Look over there, does that look like him?"

"A little. Hard to tell."

"It's, uh, mostly Milton these days," John corrected. "It's a long story."

"Whatever you say, Mister Milton. It's not important. Take care now, give my regards to Geddes."

"I will. Thank you."

"That's definitely Marston!" Arthur said to Charles, nodding his head towards the wagon John was driving while Jack was sitting as a passenger.

"Definitely..." Charles replied. "Should we wave him down?"

"Yes, I-" Arthur nodded, beginning to stand to his feet to make his reunion with his old friend. "But I think we might have a bigger problem on our hands..."

"What's that?"

"Them men followin' him..."

"Let's go."

───※ ·❆· ※───

"What? What's wrong?" Jack asked, panic coating his voice as he took note of his father's skittish behavior after passing two mysterious men on horseback passing a cliffside.

"Don't look around-"

"Oh, Pa, are those men following us?"

"-Hey! Just, just stay calm. See that fallen tree? When we get there, stop the wagon, jump down, and hide."

"Oh, Pa..."

"You need to do exactly as I say, boy. Here. Now!"

"Pa, I'm scared!"

"I know, son. Quick, get down!" John directed, nearly picking his son off of the wagon and setting him into the hiding spot himself, seeing now three men on horseback approaching him, each of them armed.

"You got a good shot, Arthur?" Charles asked, his tone low as he and Arthur perched on a cliffside, keeping themselves out of view.

"Yes," Arthur growled, looking through his scope, his finger nestled against the trigger, his anger fueled by the fact that these men were willing to try and shoot a man in front of his son. "That's little Jack with him."

"When those bounty hunters look like they're gonna shoot their guns, you take the shot."

"Believe me, I'm ready."

"What do you boys want with me?" John snarled, his repeater in hand that he retrieved from the wagon.

"Oh, we just wanna have a friendly chat," The lead man snickered, dismounting his horse, repeater in hand. "Are you John Marston? You sure look like him."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just here with my son."

"Did you kill a feller in Roanoke a few months back?"

"No. Wasn't me."

"That was my brother."

"I'm real sorry friend, but, he was tryin' to rob me." John shrugged, beginning to antagonize him.

"You're talking bullshit, Mister. Kill him!"

The men began to shoot, John only managing to kill one before to his confusion, the other two dropped dead, but not from his bullet. At first, he thought maybe Jack had shot, but he knew better. Looking up at the ridge, he saw two silhouettes fleeing the scene. "That's a first." John scoffed, scratching the back of his neck before returning to Jack, seeing him crying to himself, holding his knees to his chest. "It's okay, you're okay."

"What? Why?" Jack panted.

"It's okay. Come on, keep them eyes closed."

"Oh dear, those men!" Jack cried.

"I told you not to look, boy."

"Are they... Dead?"

"I didn't have much of a choice. You saw that. Now, compose yourself."

"You killed them, Pa! They were threatening you! They weren't gonna kill you!"

John scoffed playfully at Jack's oblivious remark, "Well, son, the threat was received, but the threat was ignored," He shrugged. "Now son, I need you to hold it together. You were real brave back there. Real brave."

"Just... Just get me back to Ma!"

"You did exactly as I said. I'm proud of you."

"R-Really?"

"Uh huh. If you hadn't listened, things could've gone way wrong for us."

"I'm so scared, Pa. What if they come after us?" He cried.

"Well, technically, they can't..."

"Why?"

'Goddammit, son, you literally just saw me kill them...' He thought, biting his tongue at his annoyance with Jack's questions. "They... They just can't. Hey, uh, your momma wants us to buy some ranch. You read to her about it, didn't you?" He asked, drastically changing the subject.

"Mmhmm..."

"What was it called?"

"B-B-Beecher's Hope!"

"That's right, Beecher's Hope. Out by Blackwater. You like the idea of that, huh? Us owning a ranch?"

"I-I-I don't know!" He whimpered.

"I could see you as a rancher's boy. Like Duncan Geddes, eh? I wasn't so sure, but, yeah, I think that kind of life suits us."

Jack wiped a stray tear as he got off of the wagon almost as fast as it stopped, rushing towards the cabin to the safety of his fantasy world he could escape to courtesy of Evelyn Miller. "How was the-"

Abigail looked baffled, holding out her arms to embrace her son only to be shoved aside by him, watching him storm through the door. "What happened?"

"Ah... It's... I don't... We-We got shot at."

"Shot at? What happened?"

"Well, we got followed, and then we-"

"Followed by who?!"

"Probably by someone who knew me. We didn't get to them particulars, I'm sorry!" He scoffed in sarcasm.

"My son. Our son. I..." She began to argue, storming off towards the cabin.

"It was your dress that caused all the problem!"

"Weren't even a dress! It was a gift for you! You sicken me, Jim Milton!"

"Hold on, now," John shouted, entering the cabin, locking the door behind him. "What did you want me to do? Huh? Let them follow us back here and bring a posse?"

"No! Our son, John! Our son! You let him see all that!"

"Well, it wasn't my first choice, but at least I didn't give him a gun and have him fight for himself!" He scoffed.

"You're digging yourself a hole, John."

"Then give me the goddamn shovel so I can dig it faster! You constantly make this hard on me. I'm out here trying my damndest to make a better life for us-"

"No, for you!"

"Bullshit! For us! I want us to have a better life! And who's workin' for it? Huh? Me! What happened to that so-called job you got in town? Huh? That's right, I don't recall you goin' to it more than twice!"

Abigail scoffed, placing her hands on her hips, contemplating on if she wanted to slap him or not for his horrid words. "You're gonna tear this family apart."

"Me? What did I do? All I did was take him with me to get him out of the house. It ain't my fault we got followed and it ain't my fault you decided to deal with me-"

"Because I had your son, John! Because-"

"Yeah, a son you probably wish was Arthur's since you regret gettin' with me, huh?" He scoffed, his jealousy rising.

"That ain't it!"

"Stop!" Jack finally yelled. "I can't deal with this! After what I saw today was hard enough, alright? Just stop. Please!" He cried.

The couple looked at each other in angered silence for a few moments before Abigail decided to speak, "Get out of here, John. Go do your chores for once. Don't come back inside until I go to bed. I'll have a pallet made out on the floor."

"Awful funny how the workin' person of the household gets the shittiest bed." He scoffed, giving Abigail no chance to reply before returning to work.

Look, just do one thing or another, not be two people at once, that's all I'm sayin'...

#arthurmorgan #minniebarlow #reddeadredemption2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 #rdr2fanfiction

1 note · View note

annaphoenix1994 · 2 years

Text

Masterlist Here:

Epilogue Part 2 - Old Habits

The next morning, John awoke with the rooster, raising his old bones to the familiar crow that grew to be more than annoying. Rolling his shoulders, he skipped making morning coffee due to the faint commotion that sounded to be coming from the work shed. Quickly slipping on his boots, he began to jog towards the fuss.

"I said what I said! Does he like dead bodies on his property?"

"Now, come on, Mister." He heard Abe scoff.

"Now tell your friend, Mister Geddes, he's gonna sell this place."

"He ain't gonna sell it, Mister."

"Oh yeah? How's about I give you a little reason to tell him?" The Laramie Boy snickered, pulling out his revolver, shooting blankly at Abe's feet, making him retreat and hike his legs as if he were on fire.

"Leave him alone." John intervened.

The Laramie Boy looked back at John as if he wasn't intimidated, "Oh, careful boys. Look at this tough guy!" He taunted.

"Get outta here." John warned.

"Oh, fancy pants Geddes paying you to be tough for him, huh?"

"No, he's paying me to keep the place clean. Said he had some problems with vermin."

"Oh, listen to this. Real funny." He snickered, turning towards his two partners, who were still atop their horses, before attempting to take a swing at John, only to see that he had successfully blocked his blow.

"I don't think so!" He growled, pushing the man down to his back, standing over him and grabbing his collar, pulling him harshly towards him before delivering a blow to his temple.

"Get him, boss! Get up!"

"You think you're gonna come mess with us now? Huh? Can't even fight!" John taunted, gaining pleasure in watching the Laramie Boy block John's punches to his face.

"Jim Milton! Get off that man!" Abigail shouted, grabbing John's bicep, stopping him from continuing further.

"He hit me first."

"Oh, you can fight boy, I'll give you that. Well, how's your wife in a brawl?" The Laramie Boy continued to taunt.

"Leave my wife alone."

"Oh, she's real pretty-"

"Get outta here!" She hissed.

"Quite a temper you got. Imagine you're, you're frustrated with your lot in life married to a shit-shoveling farmhand! Well what you do wrong to end up here?"

"Leave my wife alone." John warned again, pointing his finger.

"Welcome to Big Valley, Jim Milton. Pleasure to meet you both. We'll see you again. And you, boy, tell Mister Geddes we called." He snickered, mounting his horse, spurring the animal into a gallop, his two partners following, seeming to head towards the neighboring ranch.

"Thank you, Mister Milton." Abe sighed.

"Don't worry about it-"

Abigail pursed her lips, gripping John's wrist and pulling him along with her. "You stop acting like a goddamn storybook hero, will you?"

"What choice did I have?"

"Plenty, you moron! Plenty!" She hissed, turning to storm off back towards the cabin. "Go get to work!"

"Ain't no goddamn winnin' with her." John grumbled to himself, hanging his head low as he began to walk towards the barn to begin his daily tasks.

We all get caught eventually, John. I guess the trick is to decide by who...

#arthurmorgan #minniebarlow #reddeadredemption2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 #rdr2fanfiction

0 notes

annaphoenix1994 · 2 years

Text

Masterlist Here:

Epilogue - Part 2 - Fatherhood, for Beginners

The following morning, John awoke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Rubbing his eyes free of the crust-like feeling, he looked to see Abigail dressed in her town clothes, a gleaming grin on her face. "Hey," She whispered, fearing to wake up Jack, frowning as she received nothing but an irritated grumble from John's throat. "I made you some coffee."

"Thank you."

"You gonna get up and eat breakfast or are you gonna lay in bed all day?" She scoffed.

"Abigail, don't start. It's not even eight in the morning."

"Well, then lay there for another hour and feel sorry for yourself for bein' sore for doing a day's worth of work. Your food will be on the table."

"Where are you going?" He asked, seeing her gather her side purse.

"I'm headed to work today myself. Stay out of trouble... If you can."

"Where are you workin'?" John asked.

"I told you. Cleanin' at the doctor's office," She grinned. "Bye."

"I bet she's cleanin' at the doctor's office..." Jack mumbled, his pre-teen hormones getting the better of him as he wasn't very shy in expressing his inner thoughts. John's brow arched at his son's comment, however, he felt as if he had to agree with him as he didn't blame Abigail for finding lust in another man, especially since confessing her wish to marry Arthur emerged in their previous argument.

John let out a soft chuckle, "Jack, I'm gonna go to work. Keep the place tidy."

"Okay, Pa." Jack replied, his eyes fixated on the Otis Miller draft he had been reading while he ate his breakfast.

"Where are my other hands?" John heard Mister Geddes shout from the main ranch house as he was still standing at the barn finishing his morning chores. "Dammit, Abe! Where are the other hands?"

"I-I thought I said I don't rightfully know, Mister Geddes, sir."

"Well, what good is that to me? We got three horses lost, possibly more, a mare about to foal-"

"Sir-"

"And no hands to help with any of it. I'm supposed to be heading into town. This place is chaos! Milton! Mister Milton! Over here, please!"

"Yes, Mister Geddes, sir?" John replied after rushing to get to his boss.

"You good with horses?"

"I'm okay. I'll do whatever needs doing, sir."

"Good man. Can you help my boy, my youngest, Duncan? He will insist on riding Jeremiah, a horse that is far too strong for him and my wife will need help with this mare if she goes into foal today," Mister Geddes explained, mounting his horse. "Abe, you and Mister Dickens better not make no more mistakes like you two did today, you hear?"

"No, sir."

"Thank you. Now if you excuse me, I'm going to run over to Mister Blake's place to see if I can buy some more horses off of him. With the three we got missing, we can't afford to be losing any more horses, especially the ones he's trained for us."

"Understood, sir."

"I will be in town the rest of the day, so keep the place secured until I return."

"Will do, Mister Geddes." John assured him.

"I'll show you to Duncan." Abe sighed.

"I'm good. You get on and see if you can find them horses."

───※ ·❆· ※───

"Hey there!" Mister Geddes shouted from the front gate of Hanging Dog Ranch as both Minnie and Arthur were atop their trusted and senior mounts as they had felt they were long overdue for a ride together. Knowing Isaac was safe with Hosea learning how to skin an elk he and his father hunted with the assistance of Charles, Arthur knew he had plenty of time to spend with his wife that was well needed, which there was no better way than saddling up and taking a ride through what Minnie called the Lavender Meadow that was snug against the quiet and flowing river.

"Howdy, Mister Geddes!" Arthur tipped his hat, pulling Dahlia to a stop, the senior mare chomping at her bit as her impatience never simmered down in her age. "What can I do for ya? Them cows doin' good still?"

"They're wonderful. That Hereford got out yesterday I reckon, but my new ranch hand and Mister Dickens got it squared away. I was riding into town for a meeting and figured I'd stop by and see you first to see if you had any horses you were ready to sell?"

Arthur sighed and scratched his bearded chin, "I got three colts in the barn now I'm workin' with, but I haven't roped or done nothin' on them yet. I'm still desensitizing one to gunfire and the other two are needing to work under saddle. I'd say it would be another six months before they're ready."

"No worries. I still have plenty of horses, but according to Abe, three of them have run off."

"You still have that bay mare I sold you?"

"Yes, my new ranch hand rides her. He's really well with horses and he has earned to ride her."

"Good. Aside from this mare here, she's my favorite one I've trained so far."

"Agreed. Your horses are worth the money, Arthur. I'm in no rush, but I'd like to see them perform once they're ready. That is, if you're planning to sell them in the future?"

"Absolutely. I'll come by and get you one day when they're ready."

"Thank you. I'll see you around, Arthur. Madame." Mister Geddes tipped his hat in departure, turning his horse around to go back onto the main trail leading to Strawberry.

"I guess you can't get away from work for a day, huh?" Minnie asked, now nudging Trace into a walk as the only thing on her and Arthur's agenda was to spend time together without interruptions.

"Unfortunately not, but we make good money off of those horses. That would be good money in the spring. I'd say we're well set now for winter." Arthur explained.

"I'm proud of you, Arthur. You've really built your dream here for yourself and us." Minnie smiled, grateful for his presence.

"You know I can't take all the credit, darlin'. You've given me the best gift I could've asked for."

"Oh, I know. You were more of a mother to Isaac than I was!" She laughed. "You done had everything else down pat. I think if you could've breastfed him, you would have!"

"I can't help it, darlin'. He's my little buddy," He grinned. "He's been wantin' to learn how to ride here lately."

"Then let him, honey. You've already taught him how to fish, the basics of hunting, and now our seven-year-old is learning how to skin an elk hide with his grandpa Hosea and uncle Charles. I think riding a horse will be a little easier for him. He's already really smart and mature for his age."

"He gets that from his momma. I think I might in the next couple of days. I need to figure out how I'm gonna fix that roof." He sighed.

"You've been goin' on and on about this roof for weeks!" She laughed. "Just patch it."

"I've thought about either patchin' it or getting Charles to help me build a whole new roof."

"Ain't nothin' wrong with that whole roof to replace it. I'd say just patch it and it'll be fine. Besides, if you and Charles start on it now, you won't be done with it before winter hits. It's harvest season now, so if anything we need to be worrying about getting our garden out of the way."

"I know, darlin', but it'll look better..."

She giggled, "You even know how you're sounding right now? Who's gonna come by and see our roof and say: "Damn, old boy done did a good job on that damn roof?" Huh? Nobody!" She teased, making Arthur laugh along with her.

"I guess you're right. I guess my options for my Honey-Do list have been short this month." He chuckled as Dahlia picked up a short-strided trot as he and Minnie were now about a half-mile out from the ranch, enjoying the scenery of the mountains ahead of them, seeing a small herd of Pronghorn in the distance.

She bit her bottom lip in excitement, "Well, I have an option for you."

"What's that?" He asked, slowing Dahlia down to a fast walk.

"You can... Patch the roof, or... A baby."

With that, he pulled his mare to a stop, looking at his wife in pure excitement at the mention of another child. He had never had the nerve to ask, knowing he would never want to put her in the pain he experienced her doing to give him Isaac. But her mentioning it willingly? Oh, he'd gladly take her by the river if she wanted to. He felt as if he were thirty-six again, but was rather nervous to try for another child at his current age of forty-four. "Come again?"

"I don't think I have to repeat myself." She smirked, biting her bottom lip, knowing it drove him wild.

"You sure you want that?"

"If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't have suggested it."

"Then we best be gettin' to it."

"Race ya back?" She giggled, turning Trace back around towards the ranch. "Go!" She shouted, not giving Arthur the chance to say anything else.

The couple galloped across the meadow, tears forming in their eyes as the wind irritated their vision and smiles plastered across their faces. "Last one there has to take their clothes off first!" Arthur teased her, holding his hat down on his head as he nudged Dahlia to go faster, her signature ears pinning against her neck as she and Trace still shared their competitive nature.

"Looks like it'll be you doin' it!" Minnie taunted him, staying ahead.

"Ah, I doubt that, darlin'!" He replied, nudging Dahlia faster again as the ranch was in view, loosening the reins to let her have her head in her full stride, easily leaving a cloud of dust behind her as Trace was behind her by just a foot, leaving Minnie to be the last one enter the ranch.

"The hell's gotten into you two?" Hosea asked, peeking his head from the barn where the elk hide had been displayed for tanning.

"Just a friendly race is all." Minnie shrugged, dismounting Trace and loosening his cinch, Arthur following as his cheeks were flushed with red as the couple lazily hitched their horses at the hitching post outside of their cabin.

Hosea knew Arthur well enough that if he didn't get action while they were out, he had the hint to not enter the house for another hour or two. "Understood."

Shutting the door behind him with his boot, Arthur wasted no time in keeping space between he and Minnie. Hanging his hat and jacket up on the coathanger, he wrapped his arms around her waist and latched his lips to the hot skin of her neck, her giggles sounding distant as his focus was clear: to get her to their bedroom as quickly as possible.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he effortlessly picked her up, carrying her up the stairs and easily laying her on their bed, seeing that the sight before him was more beautiful than any painting. She bit her lip and reached for him, "There ain't no time to take clothes off, Arthur."

"And why not?"

"Because we got a curious seven-year-old that doesn't know how to knock, that's why." She giggled.

"He won't come in here."

"Fine, if you don't want to listen to me, then I guess we can wait until tonight." She playfully pouted, forcing herself to turn over to show that she was going to get off of the bed, her primary goal of arousing him quicker.

"I don't think so," He growled, grabbing her waist and turning her back over to face him. "You've been teasing me for a while now, you know that, right?" He asked as he settled between her legs.

"I know, that's why I do it." She grinned, raking her fingers through his hair, feeling his free hand nestle between her folds, smirking at how she was already aching for him far before he could do anything else to arouse her.

"Well ain't I so lucky to have you constantly teasing me?" He scoffed playfully, his hips involuntarily jerking, eager to make entry.

"Now you're teasing me, Arthur!" She whined, her hips rolling into him, begging. With a smirk, he buried his face into her shoulder as he carefully slid into her, the warm reunion almost making him lose it right then and there as well as her aroused whines.

#minniebarlow #arthurmorgan #reddeadredemption2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 #rdr2fanfiction

1 note · View note

annaphoenix1994 · 2 years

Text

Masterlist Here:

Epilogue - Part Two - Farming, for Beginners

The following night and early morning was nothing but normal for John as he awoke with a bitter taste in his mouth after verbally fighting with Abigail. She would never know it, but she had squeezed John's heart in a number of ways that he could not describe. Wiping his eyes, he took Abigail's arm that was draped over his stomach and nudged it closer to its owner. He wanted nothing to do with her for the next few days as her words dug into him like a knife. 'Did she really mean that?' He thought. If her theory was true, he would not know how to continue on with his love for her.

Knowing work would ease his mind of its busy thoughts, he prepared himself for the day, leaving the cabin in silence as waking Abigail would easily lead to another argument.

"Hey, Milton, can you give me a hand with this fence?" He heard Mister Dickens shout from the fence line bordering the main road.

"Sure."

"Know much about fence building?"

"Not really." John shrugged.

"Can't build a fence, can't milk a cow, ain't used to shoveling shit, but took on a gang of robbers single-handed."

"Guess we all got our peculiarities, Mister Dickens."

"What was you doin' before you came here?"

"I told ya. My wife got cheated out of inheritance, we was in a legal dispute... It was a bad time."

"Sounds awful, but I guess I don't believe a word of it."

"I was raised to take a man at his word and also to believe that this is a free country. So free, that I can't tell you what to think, so I guess it don't much matter what you believe. But I will work hard and I learn fast."

"Okay," Mister Dickens chuckled. "Gimme a hand with this fence, then."

John nodded, helping Mister Dickens hoist the fence post into a standing position before easing it down into the pre-dug hole, the old ranch hand passing off his mallet to John. "Here. There's plenty more to do. Pound the top of that post with the mallet. We don't want it coming down. After that, grab a rail and line it up with the notch and place it in," Mister Dickens explained, watching John labor a deep sigh as he made himself pick up the heavy rails by himself. "You're doing okay. Now go to the next post and pound that in. I hope you grasped the basics, I got other matters to attend to, but there's more than a day's work here for you. Just follow along the road here. You'll see where I already pre-dug the holes this morning where the ground was still moist. The main goal is gettin' this whole ranch surrounded by a fence."

"Okay. I'll get to it."

"Thank you, John Jim." Mister Dickens teased.

Sweat poured from John's forehead as he continued his day's labor, getting to the north side of the ranch with his fence building, stopping at the front of the cattle corral as there was a space left for a security gate.

"Jim Milton, over here! Put that fence down and get over here boy!" He heard Mister Dickens shout from the cattle corral.

Rushing to the corral, he saw Mister Dickens and two men unsuccessfully holding an enraged Hereford bull. 'Ah, shit...' He mumbled to himself, knowing not much about containing livestock, but knowing well enough that a bull could not be controled by men on foot.

"Give us a hand. You know much about bulls, Milton?"

"Just the basics. Don't make 'em mad."

"Angus Geddes, this is Jim Milton." Mister Dickens introduced.

"Mister Milton." Angus nodded.

"Angus is your boss' son."

"Nice to meet you, now let's try and move this great hunk of chuck. Let me go get my horse."

"No, th-there's no time for that, Mister Milton-" Angus tried to explain, putting just enough slack in the rope to give the bull leverage in his rage. The Hereford bucked and thrashed his head, his horn picking up the young man and slinging him like a ragdoll against the corral before snorting and turning towards the remaining men that were standing, looking between them in favor of who would be next on the bull's list of carnage.

"I'm gonna go get my horse! Mister Dickens, we need to rope him as a team. You can't just lead a bull by his neck!" John said before sprinting off to his borrowed mare, in which he was confident that the horse could do anything he asked. He tightened the front and back cinch as well as snugging the breast collar before mounting the mare, taking his lariat from the keeper and building a large loop, nudging the mare to canter towards the bull. "Get on your horse, Mister Dickens! I'll rope his head and you rope his back legs, alright?"

"I-I don't know if we should do that, Milton! He'll drag us over this whole ranch with our horses!"

"No he won't. Not if you get his heels and I have his head. We can drag him right back in!" John argued. "What? Can't rope?" He taunted.

Mister Dickens raised his brow at the jab, the other two men chuckling at him, knowing he would have to accept the challenge. "I can rope, Mister Milton."

"Well, c'mon, then. What kind of ranch hand are ya if ya can't rope?" He teased.

"I'll be right back."

John chuckled at Angus, seeing him holding his leg in discomfort, "He get ya?"

"Just a bit. I think I can walk it off."

"Good. I suggest getting behind that fence until we catch him." John advised.

"You're just like an old time cowboy, aren't you?"

"Not necessarily, just a survivor, I guess." John shrugged, turning his head towards the heavy hoofbeats, seeing Mister Dickens loping his Belgian Draft horse towards him. "You think we're ropin' an elephant?" John continued to tease.

"Gotta be prepared for the occassion, Mister Milton. When that fourteen hand high mare goes down to be drug by that bull, I don't want to hear no fuss." He teased back.

"I doubt that, Mister Dickens."

"Well, let's see it then."

"Alright. I'll rope his head and you rope his heels, alright? Once we get the rope on him, he'll fall down and we can drag him back into the corral."

"I'll follow your lead, Milton."

The pair cantered their horses towards the raging bull, spooking him in the process. Luckily, he failed to run too far as John got a lucky swing and built a loop big enough to go around the bull's horns, dallying the loose lariat to the saddle horn and turning his mare to the left, knocking the bull off balance. Mister Dickens had to take a couple of extra swings to feed the loop around the bull's hind legs, finding it rather difficult to pull the slack of his lariat as the bull continued to buck. After a few curse words and yanking on his horse's mouth to stop and back up to pull tension on the rope, Mister Dickens finally had paired with John in a successful team rope.

"Thank you, Mister Milton." Angus thanked as John and Mister Dickens drug the bull into the barn, dismounting their horse and taking tension off of the lariat to loosen the loop, letting the bull move to stand on his own balance before Mister Dickens shut the stall door the bull had been taken to.

"My pleasure. That was quite fun," John chuckled, proud of himself for feeling like he was of use for once without someone yelling at him. "There he is."

"See you later, Jim Milton." Mister Dickens nodded, leading his horse by the reins.

"See you after a while, Mister Dickens. I'll leave you to your privacy to learn how to rope." He teased.

"Yeah, yeah," Mister Dickens scoffed. "You did rather good, Mister Milton. Fine job."

"Thank you."

"We'll make a rancher of you yet." The other ranch hand commented.

"I hope so."

"Don't sweat it, son. All these men talkin' all wise comes from years of experience and they got it the same way you are right now."

"That's an interestin' way of putting it."

"Don't think on it too much."

#arthurmorgan #minniebarlow #reddeadredemption2 #rdr2 #rdr2fanfiction

0 notes

annaphoenix1994 · 2 years

Text

Masterlist Here:

Colter - Outlaws from the West

𝓑𝔂 1899, 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓪𝓰𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓸𝓾𝓽𝓵𝓪𝔀𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓰𝓾𝓷𝓼𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓪𝓽 𝓪𝓷 𝓮𝓷𝓭.

𝓐𝓶𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓬𝓪 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓫𝓮𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪 𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓸𝓯 𝓵𝓪𝔀𝓼...

𝓔𝓿𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓱𝓪𝓭 𝓶𝓸𝓼𝓽𝓵𝔂 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓭.

𝓐 𝓯𝓮𝔀 𝓰𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼 𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓻𝓸𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓭 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓱𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓸𝔂𝓮𝓭.

"Gimme that!" Minnie Barlow snarled as she pointed a revolver to a younger man's chest. He was about thirty, with a green scarf and a matching vest on his torso. He hated to admit that she was scaring him, but he failed to have any choice as she was aiming his own revolver at him after their brief brawl.

"Miss, I-" He struggled. "You don't wanna do this! I'm an O'Driscoll and word will get back to Colm!" He pleaded as he clutched a manuscript close to his torso, which held crucial information about a train clearing through Granite Pass, a train in which the O'Driscoll's were going to rob, a train that held many railroad bonds, some gold, and government payroll.

"I don't give a damn who you are!" She hissed. "Gimme that paper and we won't have no problems, ya hear me?"

He nodded his head, but still refused to give her the manuscript. Young Kieran Duffy never wanted harm to come to anybody as he never really wanted to fall in with a band of outlaws in the first place, but after losing his mother and father to Cholera, his dreams of running a large farm in California were demolished. His lip quivered, "Please! I- Please, you don't wanna do this." He begged.

He gulped as he watched her grip on the revolver tighten, her knuckles turning white, wondering why she hadn't pulled the trigger on him yet. Maybe it was the fear in his brown eyes or the quivering of his lip as she had wrestled him in the snow as they were in a region called the Grizzlies. His eyes darted to the small ridge behind the two, seeing his scouting partner taking a perch to get a good shot at her. He knew he was in trouble, but he could not see another person get killed. "Run!" He shouted at her, preparing himself to feel a bullet penetrate his torso, but flinched when the sound of gunpowder did not come from her, but from his partner.

He missed.

Minnie shuttered as she pursed her lips, "You're one lucky bastard." She seethed as she quickly unloaded his revolver before throwing it back onto his lap, selfishly taking his bullets for her own. His breath hitched as he fell back in the snow, trying to relax his breathing as Colm himself couldn't have come close to being as terrifying as Minnie Barlow. He rose his head at the sound of heavy boots thrusting through the snow, seeing his partner lunging at him, pinning him deeper into the snow. "You goddamn idiot! Why'd you tell her to run?! Huh? Why?!" He questioned, his palms gripping tightly around his throat.

"I-I don't know Phil!" He pleaded.

Phil huffed and let Kieran's torso thud back into the snow onto his back, not wanting to demand answers from him. "We're wanted men, Mister Duffy. Do you not know who that woman was?" He scoffed.

"N-No..."

"I'll tell you when we get back. C'mon, some of our boys found a cabin up in the mountains a couple of days ago. It's warm and dry - better than that piece of shit camp we're at now. And with that storm comin', we need to get movin'." He warned as he gestured at the sky, seeing the winter clouds brewing a dark blue, a screeching wind yearning with a haunting gentle hush sweeping the landscape.

───※ ·❆· ※───

"Abigail says he's dyin', Dutch!" Orville Swanson said as his arms were crossed over his torso, trudging through the snow to keep in sync with the wagon as the new storm had swept over the caravan. "We'll have to stop some place!" He pleaded as his old mind continued to worry about young Davey Callander, who had been shot.

"Okay. Arthur's out looking. I sent him up ahead!" Dutch van der Linde assured the old man. Orville nodded as he trudged back towards the back of the wagon, quickly jumping on to tend the wounded with Abigail.

"If we don't stop soon, we'll all be dying," Hosea Matthews added. "This weather, it's May... I'm just hopin' the law got as lost as we did." He sighed, looking ahead, his eyes squinting to protect themselves from the darting snow.

"There!" Dutch pointed at the silhouette appearing yards ahead of the caravan. "Arthur! Any luck?"

Arthur Morgan looked up from atop an appaloosa mare, the brim of his hat shielding him from the snow and wind, "I found a place where we can get some shelter!" He croaked. "Let Davey rest while he... you know." He sighed as he remembered the almost fatal gunshot Davey had received during the robbery in Blackwater, a city a couple of states away in which led the gang to flee into the mountains of Ambarino. "An old mining town, abandoned, it ain't far."

Desperate, cold, and surviving souls huddled together as they entered the old cabin, Davey's stiff and cold body being displayed on a table as Abigail examined him for the final time. "Davey's dead." Abigail frowned as her son, Jack, reached for her skirt, clutching it tightly as he too was looking for warmth.

"There was nothing more you could've done," Orville assured her as her frown glowed in the dim light provided by the lantern.

"What're we gonna do? We need supplies." Hosea whispered to Dutch while Arthur stood stoutly behind the old man, shaking his hands before putting them up to his mouth in an attempt to generate heat.

"Well, first of all, you're gonna stay here and you're gonna get yourself warm. Now, I sent John and Micah scouting out ahead. Arthur and I, we're gonna ride out and see if we can find one of 'em."

"In this?" Arthur asked, desperately not wanting to return to the piercing wind.

"Just for a short bit. I don't see what other choice we have," Dutch replied before turning his attention to the peering souls gathered together, looking to him as their leader for guidance in this time of need. "Listen, listen to me all of you, for a moment. Now we've had a bad couple of days. I loved Davey, Jenny, Sean, Mac - they may be okay. We don't know. But we lost some folks. Now, if I could throw myself in the ground in their stead, I'd do it. Gladly, but, we are gonna ride out and we are gonna find some food. Everybody, we're safe now. There ain't nobody followin' us through a storm like this one and by the time they get here, well we're gonna be -we're gonna be long gone. We've been through worse than this before. Mister Pearson, Miss Grimshaw, I need you to turn this place into a camp. We may be here for a few days. Now all of you, all of you, get yourselves warm. Stay strong. Stay with me! We ain't done yet! C'mon, Arthur."

"I thought you said this was an abandoned cabin, Phil?" Kieran asked hesitantly over the obnoxiously loud violin tunes being played by one of the other gang members, Billy, if he had remembered correctly. In fact, all that he could remember of Billy was that he was about as dumb as a billy goat, although almost all of the O'Driscoll boys fit the description.

"It is," One of the gang members replied, propping his feet on the table and clutching a whiskey bottle in his hand. "After we killed the bastard who lived here. We're savin' his wife in the cellar for later." He snickered.

Kieran curled his lip in disgust, "I wasn't askin' you, Billy," Kieran had been wondering to himself as to why he decided to fall in with the O'Driscolls in the first place, knowing that maybe, just maybe, all gangs didn't find pleasure in killing a woman's husband just for the hell of it and storing her in the cellar, robbing elderly folks, doctors, and teachers. He bowed his head in shame, whispering a prayer to himself for his sins to be forgiven. "Who was that woman you were supposed to tell me about?" He asked hesitantly.

"Minnie Barlow is her name. She's wanted in five states that we know of. She ran her own gang a few years back but has been runnin' alone for quite a while by what we know. Colm has a likin' towards her after she threatened his life back in Valentine." Phil explained.

"Why would Colm like that?"

"I'm not sure. I guess he likes women to have a fightin' side to 'em," Phil chuckled. "He tells us to keep an eye out for her when we're not workin'. He wants her bad. I could've gotten her if you didn't tell her to run!" Phil hissed.

"When are we gettin' out of here?" Kieran asked, desperately wanting to avoid the subject of Minnie Barlow.

"You sure do got a lot of questions!" Another gang member hissed in annoyance. "Will you shut up?"

"We're still wonderin' why Colm picked you up-" Phil replied with haste. "Maybe it's because you're the only bastard who takes care of our horses so we don't have to do it."

Kieran gulped and bowed his head, wishing that he was around horses at that moment rather than taking rude remarks from fellow gang members. 'I wonder what'll happen if I just ran away?' He thought to himself.

"Be easy on him, Phil, I'll go tend to the horses out in the barn."

"Hurry up! It's about time to get the girl!" Phil reminded before glaring over at Kieran. "You won't get a turn."

"Didn't want one." He replied.

Just as the thought Phil was having by going to waste the whiskey by bashing the bottle on Kieran's head, all of their heads shot up after hearing an unfamiliar voice outside begging for help. "D-do people just get lost out here?" Kieran asked hesitantly, praying it wasn't another gunfight brewing.

"Hello?" Dutch asked, clutching his coat as he held up a lantern, standing stationary in the knee-high snow.

"Shut up, Billy! Shh, shh, shh!" One of the gang members hushed as he pushed Billy, stopping his playing hastily.

"Excuse me? Hello!" Dutch continued. "Oh well, hello friend."

"What you want?"

"I am very sorry to disturb you. Uh, my friends and I, well we got into some... trouble up the way. Lost in the storm. Ah, gentleman!" Dutch said as Phil and Billy were now descending the three steps of the porch, Billy holding a lantern up to see Dutch's face.

"We can't help you, Mister," Billy warned.

"I got folks dyin' on the trail, I-" Dutch pleaded.

"Aw, folks!" Phil mocked with a chuckle.

"I-I just need cans of food or somethin', please!"

"I think you should go now, buddy!" Phil suggested.

"Now, friend, I ain't asking for much. Please, I am kinda desperate."

"Wait a minute!" Phil interjected, taking Billy's lantern to hold the light for himself to confirm his suspicion. "You're Dutch van-"

Gunsmoke filled the winter air, bullets lodging into the softwood of the cabin. Kieran ducked from any nearby windows as he gathered a can of corn and a tin of biscuits before making his way out of the cabin from the rear. "I ain't gettin' myself shot over some disagreement!" He hissed to himself as he made his way to the cellar to offer freedom to the woman they were holding hostage. "Ma'am, you wanna come with me? Someone is shootin' up the place and we need to leave!" Kieran explained.

"No!" She seethed, backing away from him. "I'm not leaving him!"

"Leaving who?"

"My husband! They killed my husband!" She cried.

"Miss, I-I'm sorry about your husband, but they were gonna do bad things to you. You need to get out of here." Kieran warned, slowly inching towards her.

"Nothing they can do to me will ever amount to the hurt they caused by killing my Jake. Go! Leave me alone, O'Driscoll!" She hissed before lunging at him, smacking him relentlessly as he backed away from her. She reminded him of a rattler, coiling up and lunging as she did, but he tried to understand her situation as her love for her husband was far stronger than what the O'Driscoll gang was going to do to her. Kieran simply nodded before making an exit through the back of the cabin, thrusting his legs through the knee-high snow, clutching the small sack of food he packed in fear of losing it, remembering the way to the main camp was just over the ridge.

"We've got a runner! You see him, Arthur?" He heard a man shout from a few yards away.

Kieran's breath hitched as he heard another shot go off, hearing the whistle of a bullet past him, hitting a rock nearby.

"Can't ya get 'em, Morgan? Losin' your eyesight?" A man who had been pairing with them mocked.

"Shut your goddamn mouth. He got too far!"

Kieran continued to run, forcing his legs to carry him farther, his heart thudding against his chest. "I need to get back to camp!" He encouraged himself. As much as he hated to think it, he needed to get back to Colm. At least his camp was safer than being out in the exposing elements with only a can of corn and a tin of biscuits.

"Goddamn O'Driscoll boys here? Why?" Dutch questioned as he and Arthur regrouped, followed by his newest gang member, Micah Bell.

"I don't know, maybe the same reason as us," Micah replied.

"Micah, go bring the horses closer to the house!" Dutch commanded as he and Arthur made their way up onto the porch of the cabin, searching the corpses for any valuables. "Arthur, let's go search the cabin."

"Smells like a party in here," Arthur said as he sighed in relief to get out of the piercing cold.

"Turn the place upside down. Grab as many supplies as you can. We need the essentials: food, medicine... whiskey!" Dutch chuckled.

"Looks like the poor bastard was married too, at some point," Arthur sighed as he looked at the photo on the hearth, flipping it over to see the names of the couple: JAKE AND SADIE

"If we can't eat it or drink it, put it down," Dutch replied.

Arthur continued to search the cabin, looking in every drawer and opening every cabinet, taking every canned good he could fit into his satchel, eating a biscuit out of a tin that was on the main table as he read a newspaper clipping of a fellow outlaw: Minnie Barlow.

"Looks like Miss Barlow is a ghost. Rumors of her bein' seen robbin' trains around here!" Arthur chuckled as he read the article, detailing a robbery performed a few days prior to their own robbery in Blackwater.

"What did this said Miss Barlow do this time?" Dutch asked as he searched the medicine cabinet before grabbing a blanket.

"Robbed a train out towards Rhodes with government payroll. Looks like it was heading towards Annesburg for the Army." Arthur explained.

Dutch chuckled, "You know, I've never even met the woman and she did robberies by herself and we're over here gettin' a band of fools to rob one!" He teased.

"Well, why don't you just find the woman and replace all of us then?" Arthur retorted, amused, and also offended.

"I would never do such a thing, son," Dutch assured. "Besides, I heard she was killed anyway."

"Whatchu mean?"

"By what I've read, she used to be a government official about a few years ago. She tried going after Leviticus Cornwall a while back trying to make her way in as an attorney, but they wouldn't hire women, so she just went in guns blazing and stole a couple of bonds."

"Damn! When was this?" Arthur asked.

"A couple of years ago I guess before she got killed. Apparently, that's when she went downhill the same time she went after Cornwall. She ran away and made her own gang. A woman like that is scary - workin' for the government like that - knowin' all of their little tricks and then turnin' against it as an outlaw. Nobody can touch her," Dutch explained. "I'll have to get Hosea to tell you all about it. He's obsessed with crime conspiracies."

"Sounds like a plan, then," Arthur replied as he finished his biscuit before continuing to loot the home. His mind kept thinking back to Minnie Barlow, wondering how old she was, what she looked like, and her story. He wanted to sit down and talk to her about her ways and what she's experienced. He was sure she had plenty of experience when it came to gunfights.

"Big ole pool of blood here!" Arthur said as he had accidentally stepped in it.

"I saw," Dutch replied.

"Must've been the poor bastard who lived here. Micah found a dead body in the wagon outside."

"Keep searchin' while I go pack these on the horses," Dutch said as he walked out the front door.

"Sure," Arthur replied as he searched the chest at the foot of the bed before grabbing the newspaper clipping he had been reading to take with him, hoping there was more to the story than what he had already read. He put the clipping in his pocket before walking back into the piercing cold, clutching the collar of his coat closer to his face to block the wind.

"Arthur, go see if there's anything in that barn!" Dutch commanded as he was strapping down a blanket that had wrapped some provisions on the back of Arthur's horse. "Micah, you search the cabin, see what we missed."

"Sure," Arthur croaked as he thrust his way through the snow and to the barn, only to be distracted by the distressed whinnies of a horse before being ambushed from behind by one of the men who was holding up the cabin.

"You bastards shot my cousin!" The man hissed as Arthur had easily thrown the man off of him.

"Well, he started it!" Arthur argued as he scrambled to his feet.

"I'm gonna break your neck!" He threatened.

"Whatever you say!" Arthur replied as he balled his fists before impact. The man tried desperately to hit Arthur, but Arthur was far too experienced in fighting compared to him. Within a minute, Arthur had the man pinned to the ground with his throat clutched by Arthur's strong grip while his other fist was balled.

"What's goin' on?" Dutch asked as he rushed to the scene after hearing the commotion.

"This guy just jumped me!" Arthur grunted.

"Oh, did he now?"

"Sneaky little bastard! Should I kill him?" Arthur asked.

"No, not yet. Find out what they're doing here and where Colm is." Dutch commanded.

"Oh, this son of a bitch'll talk!" Arthur grunted as he threw a punch to the man's temple. "Where's Colm O'Driscoll?" Arthur interrogated.

"With the others at an old mining camp southwest of here, near the lake." He choked.

"What're you bastards doin'?" Arthur continued. "Why are you up here?"

"We're fixing to rob some train, gonna blow the tracks. I don't know more than that, I swear!"

The silent tension between the two was broken by Dutch's sinister chuckle, "Well, it looks like you have this, Arthur. Do what you want with him, I don't care. But bring that horse when you're done!" Dutch said as he walked away. Arthur smirked as he continued to beat the man, knocking him out cold. "You bastard, you got blood on my knuckles!" He chuckled as he shook the numbness from his fist as he made his way over to the horse, who had been spooked by the commotion. As he made his way into the stall, he took note of the patches of white on the horse's coat. "Mahogany Bay," He whispered to himself as he patted the horse's thick neck. "Good boy, it's okay." He assured the animal as he pulled out an oatcake from his satchel, feeding it to the stallion before flipping the reins over the horse's ears to lead him.

"Is that bastard still in there?" Dutch asked through the whistling snow.

"He's dealt with," Arthur replied.

"Good! That looks like a decent horse! You should keep him! Tie him up over there so he doesn't spook."

"Get away from me!" A feminine shout echoed from the cabin.

"What was that?" Arthur asked as he and Dutch looked at the cabin where the noises were coming from.

"Micah! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Dutch intervened.

"Oh, look what I found in the cellar!" Micah teased as he tried to touch the young woman, seeing that it fumed Dutch and Arthur as they never would do such a thing.

"Wild thing ain't you?" Micah mocked as she was now throwing things at the man as he continued to mock and poke at her.

"Leave her alone!" Dutch protested.

"I wasn't doin' nothin'!" Micah argued as he ducked from a thrown object. "She's one of those O'Driscoll's!"

"No she ain't, Micah look at her!" Dutch protested. "Miss, Miss, are you-" He explained, but was soon interrupted by Micah lunging at the woman, flipping the table over and sending the lit lantern to the dry wood floor. "Oh, you fool, Micah!" Dutch scolded as he and Arthur shoved him out of the way.

"Miss, now it's gonna be okay. We mean you no harm," He soothed as he approached her slowly, taking note of the large knife she gripped in her hand. She hitched her breath before weakly lunging at Dutch, but not aiming the knife at him. His gentle touch to her upper arm stopped her, bringing her back to reality. A gentle touch that she hadn't felt in so long. She had almost craved more after being so roughly handled. "Miss, Miss! C'mon, it'll be okay. We need to get outta here and quick!" Dutch said as he gently led her to the front door of the cabin, Arthur following closely behind. "Come on, now." He whispered.

"You okay, Miss?" Dutch asked as they were now outside, draping a spare blanket over her pale shoulders.

"They came three days ago and my husband they, they..." She sobbed, clutching the blanket tighter.

"Okay, Miss. You are safe now and you can't stay here. You come with us. Arthur," He said as he handed the lantern to him.

"Miss, it's okay, alright? We're bad men, but we ain't them, so... It's okay," He soothed her as he led her to the other side of Dutch's horse, effortlessly lifting her up onto the horse's hindquarters. "We'll keep you safe until you figure out what you wanna do." He said as he trudged his way to his new horse.

"What's your name, Miss?" Dutch asked as he, Arthur, and Micah rode away from the engulfing inferno of her former home. "Miss?" He reminded.

"Adler," She replied.

"Adler?" Dutch said.

"Sadie Adler. Missus...I...He... He was my husband!" She croaked, still in shock that he was now deceased. She clutched onto Dutch's coat, looking back to see the top of her husband's head peering out from the sheet he was under on the old wagon, whispering a last 'I love you' to him before the image of him faded away by the density of her tears.

───※ ·❆· ※───

"How'd you get on?" Hosea asked as he met Dutch, Arthur, and Micah as they rode up to the new camp.

"Micah found a homestead, but he weren't the first. Colm O'Driscoll and his scum, they beat us to it. We found some of them there, but there is more about apparently scouting a train." Dutch explained as he dismounted his horse. "Thank you." He nodded to Charles Smith as he held the reins of Dutch's horse to keep the stallion steady.

"That's the last thing we need right now, Dutch," Hosea warned.

"Well, it is what it is, but we found some supplies, some blankets, a little bit of food, and this poor soul, Missus Adler," Dutch said as almost every member of the camp was swarmed around them. Sadie clutched her blanket draped over her shoulders, her teeth chattering. She was scared, but she felt safer in this band of strangers than the ones who had intruded on her home. "Miss Tilly, Miss Karen, would you warm her up? Give her a drink of something? And Missus Adler, it's gonna be okay! You're safe now! " Dutch reminded as Karen and Tilly led her to the cabin where the women slept. "They turned her into a widow... animals!" He said as his lover, Molly O'Shea, clung to him as she held the lantern. "I need some rest. I haven't slept in three days." He sighed.

"You're over here," Susan Grimshaw said, pointing towards the cabin she had prepared for him, Hosea, and Arthur. "Miss O'Shea will show you the way. Mr. Morgan, we put you in a room over here." She explained.

"Thank you, Miss Grimshaw!" Arthur groaned as he forced himself to walk through the snow, the harsh wind hitting him directly in the face.

"Mister Bell, you're with the fellers over there."

"How come Arthur gets a room and I get a bunk bed next to Bill Williamson and a bunch of darkies?" Micah protested, his racism sitting at the hilt of his tongue like venom.

"Get yourself to bed!" Hosea demanded, not putting up with any tension in the camp between members.

#arthurmorgan #minniebarlow #reddeadredemption2 #rdr2fanfiction #rdr2

6 notes · View notes

annaphoenix1994 · 2 years

Text

Masterlist Here:

Horseshoe Overlook - Blessed are the Meek?

The pair rode quietly to the small town of Strawberry. Minnie hadn't been to the town in a couple of years and was still agitated that the mayor still would not allow a saloon to be open there. With a heaved sigh, she dismounted Trace at the sheriff's office, looking at Kieran as she stood at Trace's flank, retrieving her evidence and the 'wanted' poster from her saddlebag. "Stay here. I'll be back."

Kieran nodded in response as he watched her strut into the sheriff's office. He waited for a few moments before feeling uneasy. 'Maybe it's where it's a quiet town...' He thought to himself, noticing his horse shift beneath him, the gelding also uneasy. "Easy, boy, you're just sensin' my nervousness." He said softly.

"What the hell are you doin' here?" He heard a familiar voice say from behind him. He felt panicked as he wished Minnie were there to defend him, thinking it was an O'Driscoll who had possibly followed them, but this man was much, much worse.

Arthur.

His bottom lip quivered as he looked at the outlaw, dressed in black while he kept his jaw firm as he puffed out his chest, asserting his dominance. He looked at Kieran, wondering why he was outside of camp and as far out as a state away. He didn't bother looking at the buckskin gelding beside Kieran's horse, until the horse turned his head to look behind him, Arthur recognizing the horse's blaze and snip markings immediately. A fire erupted in his chest, "Don't tell me that's Miss Barlow's horse." He warned.

"I-I can explain, Arthur, I-"

"Save it," He grumbled, urging Dahlia to walk forward, "What're you two doin'?"

"Dutch sent us out on a bounty hunt earlier... She's inside getting the money. Said it would be good for camp." Kieran explained.

"Out of all people, why you?"

"Because she- she recognized me and was questioning me as to why I was in camp and-" Kieran explained, catching his breath as he felt shaky. "She was probably gonna kill me if Dutch wouldn't have jumped in..."

"Too bad," Arthur mumbled. "Get back to camp. I'll deal with her."

Kieran furrowed his brows as he felt Arthur didn't make sense. He seemed to not care, but to care all at the same time. 'Is he... jealous?' Kieran thought to himself as he continued to stare at Arthur in confusion. "W-What are you gonna do to her? I mean, Dutch sent us out together and he's gonna think somethin' happened if we don't go back together..."

He tensed up as Arthur looked at him, the muscles in his jaw clenching as he was growing aggravated, "Tell Dutch I sent you back. He'll keep his mouth shut," He stated, dismounting Dahlia, his spurs jingling as he made his way up the single step that led to the front door. "I mean it. Get outta here!"

Just as he opened the door, Minnie had collided with him as it was the same time she had been leaving. His heart skipped as he remembered why he was in Strawberry in the first place - to rescue Micah from jail. He cleared his throat, looking to the floor as he gently touched her upper arm, "I'm sorry, Madame, excuse me."

Minnie caught on to his act and played it off, deciding not to embarrass him as she figured he was there for a reason. She nodded, "Accepted. Excuse me. Thank you, gentlemen!" She smiled at the sheriff before making brief eye contact with Arthur, toying a playful smirk on her lips as she walked through the front door. His urge to chase her grew as he almost forgot why he was there. He took in a deep breath as he hoped she wouldn't leave just yet.

"Yep?" One of the deputies asked, acknowledging Arthur after he snuck a glance at Minnie's backside after she had left. The gesture didn't go unnoticed as Arthur glared at him, but couldn't do anything about it just yet.

"Hello sir, I've er- I've come from Blackwater. I'm on the trail of a dangerous gang. Colm O'Driscoll," Arthur explained, stepping further into the building. "Heard you had some sort of incident."

"We don't deal with bounty hunters 'round here, son." The sheriff replied, keeping his eyes locked on the letter he had been writing.

"I-I was just wondering if I could get a description." Arthur replied.

"Well they weren't friends," The sheriff replied, now sitting back in his chair, facing him. "They got in a fight and two men got killed. Now one of 'em's an idiot and the others some kind of dumb mick so maybe them's your boys. You can look right enough, when we hang 'em."

Arthur nodded, "Thank you, sheriff."

He grumbled to himself as he walked out of the building, seeing Minnie atop Trace, her forearm pressed against the top of the saddle horn. She greeted him with a smirk as his gaze met hers briefly, "Whatcha doin?" She asked.

"Here to get Micah." He grumbled.

"Micah who?" She asked.

"Bell..."

She chuckled, "Leave that goddamn bastard here."

"You... You know him?"

"Yep, unfortunately. I'm gonna tell you this now: you get him out of that jail and he comes back to camp runnin' that mouth, I'm gonna close it for good." She warned as she pulled back slightly on Trace's reins, having him step backward before Arthur grabbed one rein, stopping him.

"Wait, how do you know him?"

"Why do you care?" She taunted him, referring to their previous spat. She antagonized him, wanting him to answer. Instead, his jaw clenched as he broke eye contact with her. She chuckled softly as she found it quite arousing how he got concerned over the littlest things when it came to her. The way he was dressed also didn't help as she always had a soft spot for a handsome man in black. "Arthur, I'm tellin' you: if he runs his mouth, I will shut it. I'm not joking."

He shook his head, "I know. Wouldn't blame you. See you back at camp?"

"Sure, gonna go get a few things from the store in Valentine on my way back. Don't wanna go back empty-handed."

He nodded as he walked down to the lower half of the building where one of the cells were. She didn't pay much attention to him as she kept telling herself not to care about what Arthur did or what he was planning to do. She was just an outlaw who was getting back on her feet, nothing more. He looked back towards her briefly, watching her ride away. He hoped that she would make it back safely or that she would stop to wait out the rain that was coming, but he knew she would trudge through it just like everything else she did.

A sadistic smirk toyed at his lips as he saw Micah clinging to the bars to the outside world, pleading for help with his sarcastic mouth. 'Oh, how I wish I could just leave him!' Arthur thought as he approached the fellow gang member. "Hello, old friend. Had a good time, did you?" He teased.

"You gonna get me outta here?" Micah asked, his knuckles turning white as he clung to the iron bars, watching Arthur as he pressed his back against the rock wall, crossing his arms over his chest, heaving a sigh. "I ain't decided yet."

"Real funny." Micah grumbled.

"Oh, I ain't jokin', cowpoke. I heard so much bluster out of your mouth these past six months and now I got an opportunity to watch you be silenced." Arthur threatened.

"Well you gotta do something."

"Why?"

"I've always looked up to you, Arthur." Micah replied.

"Well, that's your first mistake," He grumbled, standing up straight. "Listen, there's one little problem. There's only one of me and there's a whole town full of people wanting to see you swing."

"You gotta do something, Arthur!" Micah begged.

Arthur shook his head as he didn't reply, wanting to just leave him right then and there, but he knew he couldn't brush the excuse of Micah getting himself killed in jail with Dutch. He heaved a sigh as he looked around for ideas to get him out without anybody noticing. However, that was not the case as there was no way he could get him out silently without anybody taking notice of an escape attempt. It was either blow a hole in the wall or pull the bars loose by the steam donkey. "Stand back, you dolt," Arthur grumbled, latching the hook and chain to the iron bars. He walked to the lever, pulling the lever towards him, the act becoming more and more difficult as the steam donkey was building up more pressure. With a hiss and a loud snap, the iron bars sprang from the rock wall, sending shards of split rock and twisted iron every which way. The dust settled and Arthur lent Micah an extra revolver after his coughing fit subsided. "Let's get outta here, come on!" Arthur demanded.

Micah nodded as he quickly checked to make sure the revolver was loaded before shooting the man he had shared a cell with.

"What the hell are you doin'?" Arthur scolded as Micah had now brought more attention from the law on them.

"He was an O'Driscoll!" Micah replied as he started firing.

"Goddammit! Now we got a bounty on our heads!" Arthur yelled over the gunfire.

"Wouldn't be the first time!"

The pair quickly shot their way through the once quiet town, their eyes darting in every direction as the town had at least three entry points as it wouldn't be long before local bounty hunters or other lawmen would arrive. Upon a brief pause, the town became deadly silent as rain swept harder through the valley as Arthur had kept a hard watch for any more lawmen as Micah paid a visit to some 'old friends' who had somehow taken possession of Micah's personalized revolvers in one of the cabins in town. With a scoff, Micah appeared from the cabin as a new man, an outlaw who had returned to his fame, however, Arthur thought he looked stupid. 'All that shit for some precious guns!' He rolled his eyes, seeing that more lawmen had taken position across the main bridge into town. "Let's get the hell outta here!" Arthur yelled over the newly erupting gunfire. The quick movement had synced between the two as they made their way to their spooking horses as Micah's horse had still been hitched at the hotel. "C'mon, Baylock!" Micah yelled as he swung himself up into the saddle, kicking the stallion hard in the sides to urge a harsh gallop out of him. Arthur was quick to mount Dahlia as he followed Micah out of town, shooting their way to freedom.

"Got some stragglers comin' from the ridge!" Micah warned as two more riders had caught up to them. Arthur took pride in shooting them down as he was always good at mounted shooting.

"Okay... Let's get outta here before we get any more on our tail!" Micah said, exhaling a wail as he was excited to shoot his way out of town. "That was some good shooting, Morgan. I gotta hand it to you!"

"What the hell was that you pulled back there?" Arthur questioned as he put his rifle back into his scabbard.

"Got a bit wild alright."

"Wild? Makin' a house call in the middle of all that?"

"Ain't much I care about more than those guns."

"That much is clear," Arthur grumbled. "Who was that feller?"

"Skinny? Yeah, we ran together for a while. Did a bank job down south, didn't end well."

"I saw how it goddamn ended!"

"He was gonna let me hang."

"I'm starting to wish I had... And you owe Lenny, too. If he hadn't found us in time-"

"Yes, you will all be thanked profusely, I promise." Micah stated.

"Yeah, well, you're lucky Dutch has got your back, for some unknown reason." Arthur grumbled as the pair finally slowed their horses to a walk after running a few miles. Arthur looked to the sky as the rain had cleared, but dark clouds still resided as thunder rumbled every few minutes.

"I think we lost 'em." Micah said out of breath.

"Well, I hope so."

"I'm giving you a holster, my way of saying thank you." Micah said, handing Arthur an off-hand leather holster.

"And thank you... There I was having a dull day only for you to liven it up by letting me help you shoot up half a town!"

Micah laughed, "You're a funny feller, Arthur. Real funny. Why you act all sour all the time?"

"Yeah, well, you ain't funny at all so why you gotta act like the court jester?"

"Alright, listen. I'm sorry, but we're family now, Arthur. You and me - sons of Dutch, makes us brothers and sometimes brothers make mistakes. Now, I'm headin' back to my little camp round back of Strawberry. Come see me, maybe I can make things up to you?"

"So you ain't headin' back to Dutch?"

"No, I've been a bad boy, Arthur. I ain't seein' Dutch till I can bring him a peace offering," Micah explained as Baylock raised his front legs off the ground, interjecting the conversation as the stallion was eager to either canter or continue to get excited that he was around a mare. "Bye now." Micah snickered. Arthur shook his head as he lit a well-needed cigarette, looking around to get his bearings before deciding to stroll back to camp, which was at least a half-day ride, maybe a day with the storm rolling over the valley.

#arthurmorgan #arthur morgan #minniebarlow #reddeadredemption2 #rdr2 #rdr2fanfiction

4 notes · View notes

annaphoenix1994 · 2 years

Text

Masterlist Here:

Epilogue Part 2 - Pronghorn Ranch - The Wheel

Fall, 1907

"That was close," Abigail huffed, aggravated with the rough terrain the wagon was on as the scared couple were now fleeing again due to an incorrect action of John, although he didn't see it that way. "Too close! We brought that trouble on ourselves."

"By we, you mean me." John corrected.

"It wasn't me who went and shot him."

"Seemed like he deserved shooting."

"I'm sure he did, but I been thinking ain't it about time you stopped being the man making them decisions?"

"I'm trying."

"Are you?"

"I think so."

Abigail huffed, "We gotta find some place to lay low and keep quiet."

"Maybe Dutch was right. Maybe we should have just gone to Tahiti."

"Is that it with you? Tahiti or killing? Come on, John, please try!"

"Try what?"

"We gotta live somewhere for more than just a few weeks. You wanted to go up and try our hand at the Gold Rush and you see how far that got us - sittin' somewhere in eastern Tennessee with a thumb up our ass wonderin' where to even start."

"Okay..." John nodded. "Let's see what we can find in... Strawberry. What do you know about Strawberry?" He pointed, turning the single horse to the left of the main path.

"I know they like good, honest, hard-working men a whole lot more than angry killers. So make yourself good and honest."

"I am always honest. Maybe not always good, but I'm always honest."

"My whole life I've been surrounded by fools with moral codes. Here's a moral code: look out for folks. Stop trying to act like some hero in a book."

"What do you know about heroes in books?" John scoffed.

"My reading's getting pretty good."

"Well read different books then."

"The book is Jack's. And, well, maybe he's doing most of the reading, but still."

"You're a bad influence on your mother, boy," John joked to his now twelve-year-old son. "Boy?"

"S-Sorry, sir. What was that?"

"I said you're a bad influence on your mother with your books."

"Which books was that?"

"You know, that dime novel, Boy Calloway and the Men from the Moon, or whatever it was." Abigail waved her hand.

"I'll do my best to find better reading material, Pa."

"That what you like then? Western tales?" John questioned, only to be answered by a few brief moments of silence. "Boy?"

"Oh... W-What's that, Pa?"

"Do you enjoy tales of the Wild West?"

"Not so much... Anymore. I been readin' about Knights. You know, of the round table."

"The king... What's his name?"

"There's King Arthur, and there's Sir Lancelot, and the Lady Guinevere, and a whole lot of others." Jack explained with glee on his expression at the talk of his interests.

"Those names..."

"I kind of like 'em."

"You know what? So do I."

"I think that sign says 'Strawberry', don't it?" Abigail spoke, breaking the few minutes of a quiet ride as she took note of a new chill in the air as they were deeper into the valley of the northern regions of West Elizabeth. "I got a good feelin' about this place. It's been a long time." She smiled, the wagon slowing to a soft roll as they approached the main bridge that divided the town from the housing area. "Why don't you pull up just here?" She pointed to the general store, eager to find something to cure her hunger, secretly hoping to bunk at the lodge for the night as it was rather divine.

"I'm gonna go see what good, honest work I can find. Gravedigging, or polishing some rich feller's boots or some such." John chuckled, setting the brake on the wagon before hoisting himself down, rolling his shoulders back for a needed stretch.

"Me too. See if me and the boy can find some laundry work or something." Abigail replied, her first area to job hunt being the doctor's office.

"Help you, son?" The old shopkeeper asked, seeing John's new face enter his store.

"I'm hoping I can help you. I saw the help wanted sign outside." John replied.

"Sure, but uh, you're a bit old to be stackin' groceries and runnin' errands, ain't you son?"

"Well, I... Uh, I ain't too proud to do nothing. As long as it's honest and it pays."

"Times hard, Mister..."

"Milton. Jim Milton. Yeah, my wife and I, and our boy, we was robbed a few days ago. Lucky to get out with our lives, we was. Well, we need money."

The shopkeeper shook his head in disbelief at the talk of lowlifes still robbing innocent folks. Walking back behind his counter, he checked off a few things off of his own list before continuing. "There's bad folk out there." He sighed.

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"Got a wagon by any chance?"

"Sure."

"Well, then, maybe you could run some goods up to Pronghorn Ranch for me? You know head west past Owanjila, then follow the road north. There's two big ranches up that way. Pronghorn Ranch and Mister Blake's. It used to be Hangin' Dog Ranch, but some new folk run it now, better than what it once was at least. The fella up there trains horses if you're lookin' for work. I'm sure he'd take ya." He explained.

John chuckled, "I'm not too sure horsemanship suits me very well, but it's a start at least. I don't know where it is, but I'm sure I can find it. I can leave right now if you'd like?"

"It's the Geddes' place. Fine feller. Where's the wagon?"

"It's just outside. I should go tell my wife and then I can come back and get loaded?"

"My boys can load you up while you go find your wife."

"Okay, thank you." John nodded, eager to start his new job for the shopkeeper. He walked from the store with pride coating his face, starting his search for Abigail and Jack at the doctor's office.

"Thank you, doctor!" He heard Abigail say as she and Jack exited the office, the loud squeak of the wooden door being louder than her voice. "Hey! How you gettin' on?"

"I found some work." John shrugged.

"Me too!"

"Delivering goods out to some ranch."

"Cleanin' a doctor's surgery."

John chuckled, "Fine livin'!"

"It is, John, oh it is. This is the way to it."

"I'll take your word on that. Well, what do you suggest now?"

"I'll stay here and get on with the work. You deliver them goods and then collect me."

"Okay." John nodded, beginning to walk back towards the shop to fetch the wagon only to be stopped by Abigail grabbing his arm.

"And John, I love you. Don't you forget that."

"I won't," John smiled, pressing a kiss to her temple. "I love you. You two stay out of trouble now."

"That's far behind us, John Marston!"

John shook his head with a smirk toying at his lips as he began his short trek back towards his wagon, seeing that it was well loaded with plenty of goods to supply the ranch he was heading to. "Now you ride slow now. Geddes don't want his goods damaged." The shopkeeper warned.

"Of course. Thank you." John nodded, taking a deep breath before proceeding to encourage the horse to pull to start his trip to Pronghorn Ranch.

───※ ·❆· ※───

"This must be it." John breathed to himself as he approached the ranch, hidden well into the northern region of West Elizabeth, nestled perfectly between isolation and convenience. It was at that moment John knew that he wanted to build a perfect life for his family, including himself as it felt like Abigail and Jack deserved it the most.

"You Mister Geddes?" John asked, still seated on the bench of the wagon, dropping the reins slightly.

"No, sir. I'm Mister Dickens, his overseer." The stranger replied, burying his hatchet into the next stump he was preparing to split.

"Jim Milton. I'm delivering some supplies from the store in Strawberry." John introduced, now stepping down from the wagon.

"Okay."

"This is quite a place."

"Yes, it's beautiful. There's another ranch just across the river that has the same scenery, but it's more open. Good people. The man of the ranch has trained most of our horses here and crafts some of our leather for our wagons. Good people. You new around here?" Mister Dickens replied, stepping up alongside the wagon to inspect the delivery.

"They send everything?" John asked, cursing at himself for ignoring the man's question, hoping he didn't take it as an offense.

"Yeah, I think so."

"So, partner, you boss... He lookin' for hands?"

"Why? You looking for work?"

"Yeah. My wife - we was in business with her family and... turned sour. It's a long story."

Mister Dickens shook his head, "Yeah, I don't know. Married hands... It's a lot of trouble."

"I'm a good worker. My wife Agatha and our son, Lancelot, we'll all work-"

"Big man around, boy?" A suspicious voice called. John and Mister Dickens turned towards the voices, seeing two outsiders approaching John's wagon, each of their gazes inspecting the goods before them.

"Get the hell outta here." Mister Dickens barked.

The outlaw chuckled, resting his elbow on the rear wheel of the wagon, "Now that ain't very nice."

"And threatenin' us is nice?" Mister Dickens scoffed, he and John now approaching the two men.

"Hey, mind if I enjoy one of these apples?" The second outlaw snickered, taking a bite out of the Granny Smith obnoxiously. "Delicious!"

"When's boss man gonna sell this place, boy?"

"I don't think there's any plans for that." Mister Dickens shrugged.

"You boys want a drink? It's some fine Scotch whiskey." The outlaw snickered.

"Put that down!"

""Put that down!" These supplies for the season?" He mocked, stepping over onto the bench seat of the wagon from the back.

"Get off the farm. I'm tired of dealin' with you!" Mister Dickens barked, storming towards the wagon.

"Come on, we know when we're not wanted!"

"Come back here!" John shouted, seeing the two outlaws urging the horse to canter away, jerking them backward on the wagon during the process. John helped Mister Dickens to his feet as he was knocked down during the steal, leaving the old man breathless.

"You can use that horse, friend." He huffed, pointing to the quiet bay mare, looking as if she were resting during the break of labor.

John nodded at the old man, rushing towards the horse, thankful that the mare was only fourteen hands tall as he knew getting up on a taller horse was getting harder and harder with his age. "Go easy on 'em! We can't have trouble 'round here!" He heard Mister Dickens shout as he nudged for the mare to gallop towards the stampeding wagon.

"That's my damn wagon!" John snarled as he rode the speedy mare alongside the wagon, grimacing at how the outlaws could cackle between each other to celebrate their steal.

"This one's got a stone in his boot!"

"I'm takin' back what's mine!" John shouted, lining the mare up to meet close to the side of the wagon, removing his feet from the stirrups and quickly steadying himself to jump onto the wagon from the mare's back, pulling the driver from the seat by his coat before taking control, disarming the second outlaw by taking his revolver for himself and pushing him off of the moving wagon. "Y'all think twice about who you mess with!"

"Tell Geddes to take that offer off Mister Abel!" The outlaw shouted, clutching his elbow as he motioned for his partner to stumble back to wherever the men came from.

"Ah, thank you!" Mister Dickens sighed, standing up from his seat on the porch with a young man alongside him. At a glance, the young man reminded John of Clay Davies from Clemens Cove. Fortunate for John, he was just another stranger. "Milton, isn't it? Those boys are out of Laramie. Been givin' me and Mister Blake a few headaches over the past year. They work for Mister Abel, but thank you."

"Don't mention it. Listen, I ain't lookin' for no charity or nothin', but I was serious. You got work, we'll work. I can do anything. We got - We got robbed ourselves a few days back."

"We ain't got married hands here. You're married."

"We'll work harder than any one of them. I'm real honest and my wife, even though she's got fancy thoughts, she'll work too." John explained, helping Mister Dickens and the young man carry the heavy crates of produce to the front porch of the main house.

"You seem kinda desperate. What trouble you in?"

"No trouble, sir. Aside from her brother, he tricked us and robbed her of her inheritance. We're good people. We'll work. Even Lancelot."

"What does Mister Geddes need with a boy?" Mister Dickens scoffed. "It's just another mouth to feed."

"Just please give us a chance. I can handle myself okay, you know that already."

"Yeah... Makes me wonder just who would have robbed you. But, we'll give you a chance. I'll let Mister Geddes know when him and his wife return tomorrow."

"Thank you, Mister Dickens. I'll go get my wife." John smiled, reaching out to shake the old man's hand.

"No, you stay here. It's getting late. We'll go get her in Strawberry and we'll bring her here tomorrow. We need you around just in case any more of them Laramie boys turns up. There's a little cabin out yonder past the ranch house. Things work out, y'all can stay there."

"Thank you. You'll not regret this."

"Yep. Go get yourself settled. We'll have work for you tomorrow when Mister Geddes returns. Oh, and uh, that bay mare, you can use her if you don't have a horse. She's a real good mare. Came from Mister Blake. She's a little young and may buck a few times, but once she's not as cold-backed, you'd be smooth sailin'."

"Thank you. This means a lot."

"No problem, son. Go on and get settled in."

'Oh, how the wheel's turnin'...'

#arthurmorgan #arthur morgan #minniebarlow #reddeadredemption2 #rdr2 #rdr2fanfiction

2 notes · View notes

annaphoenix1994 · 2 years

Text

Masterlist Here:

Epilogue Part 1 - Hanging Dog Ranch - American Dreams

August 9, 1900

"We finally got it!" Arthur said to Hosea as he pulled the team of horses to a stop, helping Minnie down from the wagon as her protruding abdomen had been showing signs of labor soon. "This land is finally ours."

"That's great news, Arthur," Hosea nodded, setting his palm on the horse's hindquarter. "They didn't give no trouble?"

"Of course not. They asked a couple of questions, but Minnie talked me through it on the way there this morning. It feels so good to be property owners now."

"I'd imagine so. How is she feeling?" He asked as the pair of men watched her tenderly place her hand on the small of her back while the other rested on top of her abdomen as she walked towards the cabin, having no interest in standing around to chat with Hosea.

"She said she was feeling pretty weak here lately. It's odd that she wanted to go in and lay down once we got back home. Is that... Normal?" Arthur asked, concern coating his tone.

"I-I don't know, Arthur. We could ask Maria. Charles mentioned she used to help birth babies in Wapiti." Hosea suggested.

"I'll ask her when they get back. I never thought I'd see the day Charles Smith gets a woman." He chuckled.

"Well, I'm sure he can say the same about you."

"You're probably right. I guess in the meantime let's put these horses up and take what we got from Strawberry inside."

"I got it, Arthur, you go check on her. That baby may be due soon."

Swallowing the instant lump in his throat, Arthur gave the old man a nod in agreement. He could not deny the fact that he was excited to enter the role of being a father again, but he felt like he had no time to prepare, even though it had been nine long months he had been waiting. With only days left, his mind began to scramble on how he could ensure that he would be there for her when she needed him the most.

Entering the house, he watched Minnie as she walked slowly back and forth in the kitchen with a rag in her hand. She had begun cleaning and organizing it to her liking. However, she was not aware of her husband standing behind her, worrying about how he could announce his presence without scaring her. She acknowledged him briefly by turning her head to see over her shoulder before returning to her task. He smirked, approaching her with heavy steps of his boots before snaking his arms around her waist, his fingers interlocking with his own as they rested below her naval, snuggly holding her abdomen. He rested his chin on her shoulder after pressing a delicate kiss on the smooth skin at the base of her neck.

She smiled and laid her head back onto her husband's chest, feeling his stubble scratching at her shoulder. "You alright?" He whispered, gently rocking her from side to side.

"I have no choice but to be," She sighed. "I hope this baby comes out soon. He or she is heavy!"

"Pretty sure you got a little boy growin' in ya." He chuckled, pressing another kiss to the base of her neck before pulling up slightly on her abdomen, taking the weight of the growing baby off of her lower back. She sighed in pleasure, gripping his wrists as he held the weight for a few seconds, enough to give her a literal sigh of relief before she turned around to face him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, thankful that she had cut his hair only a few days prior.

"You're gonna be such a good father." She smiled.

"I hope so. I can't lie to ya and say I'm not nervous..."

"I am too, but at least we don't have to go through this in the life we had before. It would be my luck to be having a baby when those bastards swooped in to kill all of us." She sighed.

"I know. We done went months without talking about it. Let's try to keep it that way."

"I know you can't help but wonder," She shrugged. "You ever wonder where he went? Where Dutch and Micah went?"

"I have, but I don't care anymore, darlin'. As much as I trusted Dutch, in the end, I got to see his true colors, even if it took me half of a lifetime to see it."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"There ain't nothin' to be sorry for. It ain't your fault nor anyone else's but himself. He let Micah talk into his ear and it went south after that."

"If you had the option to travel back in time and change it - change how things turned out... Would you?"

"No."

She raised her brow at him, "No? Why?"

"None of this would've happened if I would've changed it. Sure, Micah would be dead, but we never would end up havin' a place as nice as this if we stayed."

"I guess you're right."

"I know I'm right about somethin' at least. You would've killed everyone in your path and split off from dumb old me." He scoffed.

"Maybe so, or maybe not." She giggled, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips, smiling into the kiss as she felt his hands resting at the small of her back.

"I love you, darlin'."

"I love you too."

The couple shared a loving kiss before she immediately broke herself from his grasp, clutching her abdomen as an evil cramp coursed through her veins. "Are you okay, darlin'?" Arthur asked, his tone in a panic.

"That was probably one of the worst cramps I've ever gotten. I felt my knees get weak," She sighed, taking her palm from her side as her other arm was still draped over Arthur's shoulder. "Did Charles ever say when him and Maria are supposed to be back?"

"No, he just said they'd be hunting around the base of the mountain upstream so that he'd be easy to find if something happened."

"If they don't return by nightfall, someone needs to go out looking for them. I don't know why they'd be out this long hunting anyway." She sighed.

"I don't know, but maybe something other than Pronghorn won't be as bad." He chuckled, rubbing the small of her back as he felt her weight shift against him as she was looking for relief from the weight she had been carrying.

"I guess you're right. Should I start dinner anyway?"

"You ain't startin' dinner," Arthur scoffed. "You're gonna get off of your feet as much as possible and me and Hosea will start on dinner."

"I gotta do something, Arthur. I don't like just sitting around."

"You better get used to the idea now, because when you have this baby, you're gonna be laid up for a while, darlin'." He warned.

The following night, Arthur noted that Minnie hadn't eaten much of the dinner he and Hosea made, however, Hosea informed him that it was normal for an expecting mother to not be as hungry the further along her pregnancy progressed. In some cases, some mothers felt more hungry than usual and others weren't much hungry at all. Arthur also began to worry that Charles and Maria were not back yet from their hunting trip even though it wasn't abnormal for them to be gone all day in the wilderness. Impatiently tapping his foot on the floor, he looked to the right of him to look outside the window, seeing the sun begin to set to the west, leaving the clear sky a painted photo of blue and purple.

"It's a beautiful evening out, Arthur," Hosea chimed, finishing off his glass of water. "They're probably taking advantage of the nice weather to get a good kill." He assured.

"I hope so. With all that's goin' on, I don't want nothin' else to happen."

"You worry too much," He chuckled. "You could use a glass of whiskey. How's about we all sit on the porch for the evening? You and Charles worked your asses off to build it, how's about we enjoy it?"

"Go ahead, Arthur," Minnie grinned as she took his brief glance at her as a way to ask permission as he didn't want to leave her side. "I'm going to lay down on the sofa. It's easier to get up and down in. Plus if something happens, you two can hear me." She assured them as she slowly stood to her feet, taking Hosea and Arthur's empty plates with slight resistance from both of them.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

"Yes. You've been too worried lately and you need to take the edge off. I'll be right in here and if I need you, I'll yell, okay?" She assured him as she placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Okay. Go ahead and go sit down. I'll take care of these plates." He offered, giving Minnie no chance to retort as he was already assisting her towards the sofa, his grip ever-so-gently on her arm to help her sit, taking two pillows and wedging them behind her to keep her reclined before pressing a kiss to her forehead. She smiled at him for his encouraging gestures, knowing that he would be more than enough help for when the time the baby came. The more she thought about it, the more excited she became as she wanted nothing more than to give Arthur the one thing she knew he missed more than anything - his son whom he lost to no control of his own.

A harsh cramp awoke Minnie from her light slumber with a thin layer of sweat splayed across her forehead. Taking a deep breath, she wondered how long she had been asleep as well as what time it was. Seeing that it was only after nine, she sat up to stretch her aching muscles, only to contract another cramp and causing her to hiss in pain, adrenaline taking over as she rushed to stand to her feet only to be interrupted by another cramp. She took a few deep breaths, breathing in through her nose before exhaling out of her mouth, swearing she could feel her intense pulse in the soles of her feet and the faint conversation she could hear between Arthur and Hosea on the front porch seeming to echo within the realm of her head. "Arthur?" She groaned, her voice coming out hoarse and too faint for her husband to hear. She felt it was too early for early warning signs of labor, but she remembered when Arthur would encourage her to take notes of every notion she was having, recalling she felt like the baby had dropped a couple of days prior to the current event as well as having more intense back pain and feeling constant fatigue.

Frustrated from the immense pain, she took the slipper from her foot to throw at the front door, sure to get Arthur and Hosea's attention from the noise before calling his name again. "Arthur!" She panted, pure adrenaline taking over as she made herself sit back down onto the sofa, forcing herself to take deep breaths to help regulate her heart rate. Hearing his heavy boots on the wooden porch, the latch on the door could be heard as both Arthur and Hosea rushed through the door. "Arthur, I-"

"It's okay, darlin'," He gulped, rushing to her side and grasping her hand that was reached out to him. "Is-Is it time?"

"I think so... I'm hurtin' awful bad. I need to go outside and get some air." She panted, clutching onto Arthur's shirt.

"Are you sure it ain't the baby?" He stuttered.

"It probably is, but it feels so stuffy in this house," She replied, letting him effortlessly help her to her feet and a few steps towards the front door, the cool August night air cooling her hot skin instantly. "Did Charles and Maria ever come back?"

"Not yet," Hosea answered, concern eating away at his aging features. "I'll ride out and go look for them if they don't get back before ten."

"Okay." She replied, wincing in agony again as another cramp rushed through her, causing her knees to buckle and Arthur putting his arms under hers to support her before rushing her to sit in the nearest rocking chair.

"It'll probably be a good idea to go out and look for them," Arthur said to Hosea. "As much as I dread this, I think it's time."

"Alright, Arthur, I'll be back," He nodded, rushing back through the front door to grab his hat and coat. "If her water breaks, take her upstairs immediately and get everything ready." He added as he rushed down the two stairs leading off of the porch and jogging towards the barn.

"Take Bailey with you!" Arthur said, referring to their well-trained brown and white Border Collie that was more than a big help to the ranch.

"Alright, Arthur!"

Minnie rocked herself gently in the rocking chair, clutching Arthur's hand as he crouched down next to the chair, his blue eyes staring holes into his wife, making sure she hadn't skipped a breath as the beads of sweat began to pearl on her forehead. "I'm so scared." She panted, squeezing her eyes shut.

"I know, darlin'. I am too, but it'll be alright. I ain't gonna let nothing happen to you." He assured her, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb.

"It feels like he's pressing right against my pelvis." She panted, her free hand putting pressure on her side.

"That means he's moved down," Arthur answered her, thankful that he had taken plenty of notes from Maria. "You might be going into labor."

"Oh, God." She winced at his answer and the immense pain she was beginning to feel, Arthur immediately rising to his feet as he noticed her spread her knees briefly, a clear liquid pooling on the porch below, indicating that her water had broken.

"C'mon, darlin'. Let's get you up to bed. It's happening." He assured her, helping her stand to her feet before locking his arm behind her back and the other under her knees, picking her up bridal style before she could even get her balance, nudging the door open with his boot, kicking it shut behind him as he rushed her up the stairs. She whimpered as she tucked her face into his neck, placing a kiss to his warm skin desperately for assurance that he was there effortlessly holding her in his arms in her time of need.

"I'm so scared, Arthur." She cried.

"I know, honey. No need to be scared. I'll be right there beside you." He replied, gently laying her down in the birthing bed he and Charles made for her as it was narrower and shorter compared to their large king-sized bed. He wedged pillows behind her to keep her comfortable before taking his journal from the nightstand drawer next to the main bed, flipping to an empty page to record the time and her symptoms as well as the time he remembered her water breaking. Combing his fingers through his hair, he sighed as he rushed to the water basin, cleaning his hands relentlessly before grabbing a pile of clean linens and cloths, remembering that the risk of infection was dangerously high and that keeping everything as clean as possible was crucial. Wetting two cloths, he approached her slowly before pressing the first cloth to her sweat-beaded forehead, watching her sigh in relief at the gesture. "I gotta get you cleaned up, okay?"

"Okay, Arthur." She breathed, clutching her eyes shut.

"I-I don't know what to look for, but I know we gotta keep everything as clean as possible. I don't want you getting an infection. I can't lose you in a time like this." He sighed, running the other cloth along her now-bare legs and towards her abdomen. She reached down and helped him clean her as best as she could, feeling embarrassed that he would have to see her in such a vulnerable state. Although after all, it was because of him and her both as to why she was the way she was currently. Lain to bare a child in front of a man, who in general scheme of things, do not have a place in the birthing room.

"I trust you, Arthur."

"I sure hope so," He breathed a chuckle. "Everything will be alright. Hosea will find Charles and Maria and I'll feel a whole lot better about this all. I ain't never birthed a child before and I don't want to start now without knowing what to do." He sighed in nervousness.

"Believe me, I think I have the hardest job of pushing this child out," She sighed. "I don't feel like I need to push, but I feel a lot of pressure down...there." She pointed.

"Alright, darlin'. Let's just get you as comfortable as you can. Do you want me to get you some water or anything?"

"Maybe later. I'm okay right now." She breathed before suffering through her first contraction, which was a burning white-hot pain that shot through her body completely, causing her to yelp as if she had been severely hurt, causing Arthur to immediately stop the process of writing down updates to tend to her, offering his hand for her to grasp, instantly pressing his knuckles together with her firm grip, causing him to clench his jaw at the discomfort in his hand, although he dared not to compare his discomfort to hers.

Encouraging her to breathe during another contraction, he heard heavy hoofbeats from outside the cabin. Walking towards the nearby window, he saw Hosea leading Charles and Maria back from their hunting trip, Maria and Hosea rushing into the house while Charles quickly untacked the horses and disconnected the game from their hindquarters. "I'm coming, Arthur!" Maria shouted from the bottom of the stairs, followed by Hosea as they rushed to the scene to see Minnie laying on the birthing bed, gripping Arthur's hand tightly as her dress was rolled up to her sternum, leaving only the cotton sheet concealing her modesty.

"How long ago was her last contraction?" Maria asked a worried Arthur.

He gulped as he looked at his pocket watch next to his open journal on the side table, the scribbles of quick notes jotted on the worn paper. "Seventeen minutes ago was the first one."

Maria nodded, "She's definitely in labor. Once your contractions start getting more intense, they'll come every few minutes and last a bit longer. That's when we need to focus on getting the timing just right," She explained as she walked to the nearby water basin, washing her hands thoroughly before grabbing a fresh cloth and making her way back to the birthing table. "Gentlemen, it's probably best you two leave. This is no place for a man."

"I-I want him to stay." Minnie spoke up, her grip on his hand loosening.

"Are you sure? This can be very frightening for him."

"I can assure you, I've seen worse." Arthur chuckled.

"I'll be downstairs, Arthur. Maria, let me know if I need to bring you anything for...this." Hosea nodded, referring to bringing any additional supplies she may need along the process.

Arthur pulled a chair to her bedside, resting his elbow and forearm on the bed, letting Minnie clutch onto it as much as she desired. She winced as she felt Maria check her dilation with her fingers, still surprised even though she had been warned and given her consent. After being told she was sitting at four centimeters dilated, she was advised to take deep breaths through her nose and to exhale through her mouth and that she was free to move around to get her pelvis in the right position to ease the immense tension throughout her back. Minnie turned to lay on her side, curling her knees towards her abdomen and sighing after feeling a small pop in her lower back. Her right hand clutched Arthur's while her left arm nestled her head under the pillow, leaving her to gaze at her husband for his encouraging words while feeling his thumb rub soothing circles on her skin. "You ready to be the best momma to our little boy?" He smirked in a low tone, pressing his lips to her hot forehead, letting his lips linger there for a moment as he tried to make her as comfortable as possible.

"You're so confident it's a boy." She giggled.

"Like I told ya a while back - if I have a part in making it, I should have a say in what it should be." He joked.

"Arthur, it don't work like that!" She smiled.

"In my mind, it does."

"If you say so. How's about this: if it's a boy, you gotta promise me you'll give me a girl in the future." She smiled, looking at him.

"You got a deal." He grinned, now pressing a reassuring kiss to her chaste lips before another contraction snuck up on her, causing her to bite the pillow below her head and clutch Arthur's hand as if her life depended on it. Maria stood on the other side of the bed, talking encouraging words to her and reminding her of her breathing technique as this new contraction lasted over thirty seconds, leaving her completely unable to move or talk throughout the experience, only leaving her with the now-familiar white-hot pain in her abdomen.

The evening had carried over into the premature hours of the next day. Throughout every contraction and anything Arthur declared as abnormal, he wrote it down on the spare sheet in his journal, documenting everything he could as his left hand was aiding Minnie in her time of need. She had broken out into an intense sweat as her uterus had been announced to be at eight centimeters, Maria telling her to mentally prepare to start pushing once she hit ten centimeters.

The time Arthur recorded before he had to use both hands completely was pushing four a.m. Seeing seven hours of intense labor was enough to haunt Arthur enough to not even want another child by now knowing how much pain Minnie would have to sacrifice to do so. "You're doing so good, darlin'." Arthur whispered to her, his free hand holding firmly behind her knee while his other hand was in aid to hers, there when she needed to squeeze the most.

"On the next breath, I need you to push again, okay?" Maria encouraged her, keeping her trained eye on Minnie's groin, waiting for the baby to crown.

"God, it hurts." She grimaced turning her head to the side, seeking comfort from Arthur.

"I'm sorry, darlin'," He cooed. "You're doing so good. Just a few more good pushes and we'll get to see him."

"Your confidence kills me." She breathed a giggle before biting her bottom lip in pain to work through another contraction.

"You got this, darlin'. Just push." He encouraged her as he watched Maria fetch a fresh cloth after washing her hands again.

"The baby is starting to crown! Keep pushing and breathe!" Maria said, using her hands to spread Minnie's knees apart further.

She used all of her remaining energy and strength to push the baby from her birth canal. Her body feeling as if it were slowly tearing apart. Arthur's voice seemed to sound muffled and in the distance when in reality he was by her side the entire time, whispering encouragement into her ear. "Keep pushin'. You're so beautiful."

She slammed her head back against the pillow, letting a groan escape her throat as she swore that instead of birthing a child, she were birthing a boulder. With another intense half hour of cautious pushing, a loud and sharp wail filled the room, causing Minnie's eyes to widen in fear that she had done something wrong for the baby to sound as horrified as it did.

"It's a boy," Maria smiled, swaddling the newborn in the fresh cloth, leaving the imbilical cord exposed for cutting. "Congratulations, you two!"

"I guess you did have a say in what it was gonna be." Minnie breathed a laugh, shocked at all that just happened, looking up at her husband to see his eyes pooling with tears as his posture became fully stationery as Maria put the crying newborn in his arms so she could get the shears.

"He's so beautiful, darlin'." He said, using his free hand to rub his eyes and using the excess cloth to clean the baby's face free of bodily fluid, revealing his stark brown hair and perfect features.

"Alright, do you want me to cut the cord or do you want to?" Maria asked Arthur.

"Um...I... I think you should. I-I don't want to hurt him-"

"You're not going to hurt him, Arthur, but if you'd feel better with me doing it, I can."

"Go ahead. I want to hold him as long as I can."

Maria nodded, using the shears to cut the imbilical cord, using a strip of linen to tie off the end, cutting off the circulation before advising Arthur to put the baby onto Minnie's chest, letting him get as much skin-to-skin contact with his mother as Maria cleaned up the birthing area, as well as Minnie herself to prepare for her first breastfeed.

Arthur smiled as he took a seat next to the bed, using his free hand to write down the date and time the baby was born. Words could never describe how excited he was to be a father again, especially to a little boy. He felt as if his past came back to give him a second chance after all. The baby was almost a spitting image of him if he had to imagine how he looked as a newborn. He rested his elbow on the bed, using his thumb to wipe the stray tears that had stained Minnie's cheek as she held the newborn close to her, absorbing every new moment she had ever wanted. "This is so perfect." He said.

Minnie turned her head to look at him, "I couldn't think of it turning out any better. The pain was worth it, even though I'm sorry I said I hated you for doin' this to me." She chuckled.

"Ain't no problem, darlin'. I would hate me too." He joked.

"Shut up, Arthur," She smiled, her eyes begging him for a rewarding kiss. "I see such a bright dream for us."

"I hope you're right. You have been all along, anyhow."

"Enough about me. What do you want to name your new son?" She grinned, nuzzling her cheek onto the newborn's forehead as she held him close against her breast as luckily, he latched onto her for his first feeding without problems.

"I haven't had much time to think on it, I-"

"I think I know what your idea is."

"Really?"

"Yes. I want to hear it, Arthur."

"Isaac."

"That's a perfect name."

#arthurmorgan #arthur morgan #minniebarlow #reddeadredemption2 #rdr2 #rdr2fanfiction

2 notes · View notes

annaphoenix1994 · 2 years

Text

Masterlist Here:

Saint Denis - Horsemen, Apocalypse

WARNING - GRAPHIC CONTENT AHEAD

───※ ·❆· ※───

"Do we know who could've done this?" Sheriff Lambert asked as he and a group of his well-trusted deputies stood at the docks in Saint Denis looking for any clues that could lead to the capture of the bandits who performed the robbery.

"I-I don't know where to start, sheriff," One of his deputies sighed. "The guards on the ferry said that they escaped by jumping."

"Mister Lambert!" Another deputy shouted as he escorted two strangers towards him. "These two said they saw everything."

"Is that so?" Sheriff Lambert squinted. "Can I get your names, please?"

"Sure. My name is Desmond Blythe and this is Miss Mary Linton," Desmond spoke. "My darling here says that the job was arranged by Minnie Barlow - said she had talked to her moments prior to the chaos."

Sheriff Lambert chuckled in disbelief, "Minnie Barlow? Yeah, right. She's been dead a long time!"

"That's what she wants you to believe, sir," Mary hesitated to speak. "She threatened me before everything happened."

"And what exactly was the threat?"

"That I knew what she was capable of."

"She was also with this Arthur Callahan fellow - set up the cards to where he could cheat me out of my Swiss watch!" Desmond added.

"I believe they call that being a sore loser, friend." The younger deputy chuckled before receiving a glare from Sheriff Lambert.

"Right. We will do our best to find out what band of misfits did this and get the custody that they deserve," Sheriff Lambert assured the couple. "It's hard to find a starting point since they did in fact escape by jumping off of the ferry, so I have patrols out around the city looking for anything suspicious. Can you give me a description of this Minnie Barlow?" He asked, still doubtful.

Mary huffed, "She has blonde hair, hazel eyes, a slender build, and a small scar next to her eye."

"And what about the so-called acquaintances?"

"The cheat wore his hair slicked back - light brown I presume, with light facial hair. He was very broad and I am almost sure that his name is false. His friend was a well-mannered fool with a fancy mustache."

"Right," Sheriff Lambert nodded. "We'll stop and question anybody we see fitting this description."

As the couple nodded at the sheriff's assurance, another deputy rushed to them with a soaking wet dress draped over his forearm as well as an envelope. "Sheriff! Sheriff!" He said out of breath. "We found this washed up close to the docks. Mister Bronte also sends this telegram for you. It was sent out with urgency, sir."

"Thank you. I will attest to this as soon as possible," He nodded as his brow arched after seeing the dress, recognizing it as his wife's work. "And you said you found this at the dock?"

"Y-Yes! That's the dress Minnie was wearing last night!" Mary spoke up.

"As you say. You two go and get some rest. We'll begin our investigation immediately." Sheriff Lambert directed as he turned his back towards the couple, bringing the telegram closer into his vision:

𝓟𝓸𝓵𝓲𝓬𝓮 𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓮𝓯 𝓛𝓪𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻𝓽,

𝓝𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝓵𝓸𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓶𝓮𝓷 𝓸𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓮𝔂 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷. 𝓝𝓸 𝓶𝓮𝓷 𝓲𝓷 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓻𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓵 𝓭𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓬𝓽 𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓵 𝓘 𝓼𝓪𝔂 𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝔀𝓲𝓼𝓮!

𝓐𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵𝓸 𝓑𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮

───※ ·❆· ※───

"Well good morning to you, Miss Gaskill," Kieran smiled as he offered her a warm tin of coffee. "I hope you slept well."

"I did, thank you!" Mary-Beth smiled. "You're usually not up this early!"

"I know," Kieran shrugged. "I fell asleep pretty early last night and couldn't fall back to sleep so I figured I'd see my darlin' before I go hunting!"

Mary-Beth blushed, "Oh, so it's official now that we're sweet on one another?"

"Why sure! Gives you another topic to write about in one of your books!" He teased. "And besides, I'm pretty sure everyone knows that we've been sweet on each other for the past few weeks now."

"Maybe so. I'm just nervous, I guess."

"Ain't nothing to be worried about, darling. I promise once I get back on my feet and some of these guys ain't pointing a gun at me, I'll do you true and give you everything you've ever wanted!"

"That's silly talk! We can't get out of this life!" Mary-Beth frowned.

"Why of course we can. I don't think Dutch is like old Colm. If we want out, then I'm sure he'll let us out if it's for the best. Surely he knows that we won't rat on him!" He suggested. "I want to do best by you, Mary-Beth and I want to prove it to you. That is, if you'll let me?"

Her eyes hesitated to look into his as she felt like she was making a life-threatening decision. In a way, she was, but agreeing to start a new life with a new love didn't sound as bad as running from the law and wondering when the Pinkertons would yet again show up to take them in. Anything seemed better than that at that point. "Y-Yes," She nodded. "Yes!"

Kieran smiled, "Great! I'll go get the camp some game for the stew tonight and do my part and we'll start planning when I get back, okay?"

"Okay," Mary-Beth smiled. "You better be careful!"

"Always have been, darling." He assured her as he helped her to her feet, his heart thudding harder against his chest as her arms snaked around his shoulders as she buried her head into the crook of his neck, her warm embrace making him feel loved and wanted for the first time in his life. "I trust you." She whispered before looking up at him, hesitating for a few seconds before their lips touched in a reassuring kiss.

After pulling away, Kieran's eyes widened in surprise, "That made me all tingly inside!" He smiled. "I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you!"

"Ah, stop talking nonsense!" She teased.

"If it's nonsense, then just call me one of those penny dreadfuls!" He laughed. "Miss Gaskill, I'll be back for you as you're always in my head!"

She giggled, "Always in your head, huh?"

"Always. They'd have to cut it off to get ya out!"

"Psh! Get outta here!" She laughed as their hands pulled apart slowly, her arms crossing over her chest as she watched him attend to Branwen before putting a rifle in his scabbard, looking back at her one more time before mounting up and walking down the trail leading out of Shady Belle.

Kieran nudged Branwen into a soft walk down the trail as he had now passed Rhodes, heading towards the large meadow that was home to many deer and turkeys, a preferred meal for the gang.

Well, I got my health, my John B. Stetson Got a bottle full of Baby's Blue Bird wine And I left my stash somewhere down in Preston Along with thirteen silver dollars and my mind

He sang the old song as best as he could remember, patting his knee with the rhythm he could remember as Branwen's gait was slow and relaxed. Looking down at the red roan's ears, he noticed that the gelding's ears were pinned forward sharply, indicating that his attention was on something in the distance. Shrugging his shoulders, the young man ignored the horse's attentive behavior as he brushed it off as a local rabbit disturbing the tall grass. "It's alright, buddy. Ain't nothin' gonna bother ya!"

Without any doubt on his mind as he was for once confident in himself that he would return to Mary-Beth with the promises of a good life that she deserved, he decided to make a small post to scout for deer as he had remembered seeing a large buck grazing about. He hummed as he ground-tied Branwen before retrieving his rifle from the scabbard, using his jacket to wipe the dust from the trail off of the barrel, continuing to whistle the tune of Thirteen Silver Dollars.

"Where ya at, big buck?" He whispered to himself as the morning dew started to settle. Continuing to pause for a few moments, which felt like hours, he finally heard movement through the tall grass. Looking back at Branwen, the gelding's ears were pricked forward as his attention was on something in the distance. "What is it, boy?" He asked his companion as his stance was now broad and ready to spook. Losing patience and being well distracted by his spooking horse rather than wild game, Kieran gave up on hunting on foot as he was too worried about losing his horse.

An hour into his hunting trip, Branwen trotted along the path as he was travelling north towards the Lemoyne state border in Scarlett Meadows, the fear of being ambushed tucked in the back of his mind.

"Well, look what we've got here!" A stranger sneered as he blocked the path. Squinting, Kieran recognized the apparel to be one of an O'Driscoll.

"Oh, shit!" Kieran panicked, jerking Branwen's head around to go the opposite way. "Go, boy! Go!" He shouted, kicking the horse repeatedly.

"Get that bastard!"

True fear coursed through Kieran's veins as his adrenaline made every decision for him as his body was now in survival mode. He panicked as he had wondered if he had been followed as well as cursing himself for not being as brave as Arthur or John in an unexpected ambush, flooding his mind with self-doubt as he failed to learn to master handling a firearm. "Get me outta here, boy!" He cried before daring to look over his shoulder, seeing three O'Driscoll's gaining up on him. Shaking, he removed his revolver from his scabbard, daring to start shooting the men behind him, missing every shot until the dreaded last bullet left the chamber. "Somebody help me!" He screamed.

"Ain't nobody gonna save you, boy!" The O'Driscoll taunted, Kieran watching him pull out his revolver during his threat.

Within a few short moments, Kieran's body had scuffed the dirt harshly, his vision blurred with tears and dust from the Lemoyne soil. After the dust had settled as well as the hoofbeats from the O'Driscoll's horses, he had hoped that he had fallen off and the bandits had just ridden off after successfully scaring him, but after realizing that Branwen had been shot down intentionally, getting back to Mary-Beth, or even close to camp at least, had been put on the back burner.

He knew he would not make it back.

Through his tears, he looked up to see three out of breath horses standing over him each with an angry O'Driscoll on their back. "That him?"

"Sure is. You're the bastard runnin' with old Dutch, ain't ya?"

"N-No, I'm not." He cried.

"I don't believe ya, friend," The O'Driscoll snickered as he dismounted his horse. "You look like Kieran Duffy."

"I-I don't know who that is! I'm just an outsider, honest!"

"Should we kill him now or take him back to Colm, boss?"

"We'll let Colm deal with him. Come on, you bastard!" He hissed as he took the grip of his revolver across Kieran's temple, knocking him out cold.

───※ ·❆· ※───

"Here he is, boss." Kieran heard the O'Driscoll address. His vision was blurry and his torso ached as he was immensely uncomfortable being slung over the heavy O'Driscoll's torso for a few moments. Blinking rapidly, he took in his surroundings as he knew he was still in Lemoyne at least, but nowhere near Shady Belle.

"Kieran Duffy," He heard Colm speak, his voice still sending shivers down his spine. "Nice to see you again. Have fun runnin' with old Dutch?"

"I-I don't run with him!" Kieran begged as his body was thrown to the floor as if he were a sack of potatoes. "I'm telling you true!"

"Sure ya are," Colm grumbled, uncrossing his ankles as his feet were propped on the table. "That's not what my boys told me! Told me they've seen you riding around that old plantation house in the swamps near Saint Denis!" He accused.

"No!" He cried. "Dutch let me go and I've been on my own! Honest!"

"Beat the truth out of him, boys." Colm directed as two of his men proceeded to kick and punch Kieran's helpless body, his cries for help anything but agonizing to them as his groans of pain were sounds of pleasure to them.

"Please!" He cried as he spit blood from his newly split lip. "I don't know where he is!"

"Oh yes you do! Tell us where he is and we'll let you go!" He proposed.

Kieran's body went numb as images of Mary-Beth crossed his mind, knowing that if he gave up the gang's location, Mary-Beth could be one of the fatalities if any were taken. Now falling unaware that his body was being repeatedly bruised and beaten by Colm's men until his mind was starting to go blank.

"I got an idea, boys," He heard Colm's voice speak, although it was now sounding muffled through his brink of consciousness. "They are at that old house, right?"

"Yes, sir. Saw Dutch himself comin' back the other night."

"We outta send him a message. Knick his head off right behind his ears."

The gang chuckled, "Alright!"

Gargling uncontrollable, the iron taste of his own blood flooded his senses as he felt a sharp pain slide across his throat, the burning sensation engulfing the last of his senses before total darkness consumed him until his last breath. "Now what?" One of the gang members asked.

"We strap him to one of those old horses out there, send it into their camp and scare the livin' daylights out of them. Once they're all freaked out, we ambush them and kill the lot of 'em!" Colm directed.

"And what about you?"

"I think I'm gonna take me a little vacation. This state just don't sit right with me," He replied, looking down at Kieran's lifeless body as well as the deep gash in his throat. "Finish cuttin' the bastard's head off and carve his skull like a Jack-O-Lantern. Don't like his cloudy eyes lookin' at me like that." He sneered.

"You got it, boss. We'll kill 'em for ya!"

"Good. I've been lookin' forward to this. If you can, bring old Dutch with you. I'd like to hang him myself."

"Alright. We'll get the wagon ready. Stole some explosives from some mining boys coming through to Annesburg."

Colm nodded, "Alright, horsemen! Bring the apocalypse on their asses and don't come back until you bring me Dutch!"

───※ ·❆· ※───

The late Autumn afternoon sun swooned a balanced heat throughout the camp, but nothing unbearable as the chores continued without beads of sweat plastering their skin. Although humid, the weather was somewhat comfortable. "You sleep well?" Arthur asked Minnie as they took a short walk around the house.

She giggled, "Well you should know. Surely, you heard me snorin' last night! I was tired!"

"I was gonna blame my snorin' on you, anyway," Arthur chuckled. "You wanna go out huntin' tonight?"

"Is that your way of askin' for lovin'?" She smirked.

"Maybe..." He spoke lowly. "After we kill a deer or somethin'."

"Oh shut up, Arthur Morgan!" She laughed as she playfully tapped his chest as the couple now reached the front porch. "Sure, I'll go with you. Dusk?"

"Sounds about right."

"Okay. Let me go get my rifle from Trace so I can clean it up a bit."

"Lord willin' you need to clean your guns!" He teased as he watched her walk away, reminding himself that he was fortunate to have a woman like her who brought out the best in him.

"How you doing, Missus Adler?" Arthur greeted as he was on his way to enter the house.

"How are you?" She replied. "Been quite a journey since I, well, since I joined you fellers."

"Yes."

"And now you and Dutch have joined high society? My Lord above!" She scoffed.

"Yeah, it seems so." He chuckled as he had taken the seat next to her, looking out into the distance as the atmosphere in camp seemed to shift, although he knew things seemed normal. Shaking the worry from his mind, he turned his attention back to Sadie as he had taken note of how her demeanour had changed. From being a nervous and quiet widow to a now fearless and tough outlaw, he was impressed by her and proud of her for overcoming her dark spell of grief as he had once felt that type of pain too. In a way, he thought, they had a silent bond as they shared the same type of pain at one point in their lives, which was a discussion further down the road. That is, if they both made it out of that life, which was rather doubtful.

"I think my days in high society are over."

"Well, I just saw John Marston at a party at the Saint Denis' mayor's house!" He chuckled. "If he can do it, anyone can."

"You get any leads?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"You know so, Arthur Morgan. Come on, we need to talk. Missus Adler, will you excuse us?"

"When you gonna let me come robbin' with you Dutch? Minnie gets to all the time!" Sadie questioned.

"My Lord, a few more like them, we could take on the whole world." Dutch commented.

Arthur smirked, "A few more like them and we won't have much of a world left!"

"Yes, perhaps," Dutch agreed as he and Arthur now ascended the old staircase that led to the top balcony, the gang leader offering his trusted associate a cigar as well as lighting it for him. "Now, the trolley bus station - I went down there and I took a look at it. I think we can hit it!"

"I ain't never robbed in a city before!" Arthur chuckled.

"Yeah, well you leave the planning to me. You'll ride with me?"

"Always. Is it just you and me?"

"No, we'll need one more I reckon."

"I say Lenny." Arthur suggested.

"Not Micah?"

"Well that depends on if you want a massacre or a payday." He scoffed.

"Now I wish that there was something I could do to make the two of you get along better."

"Well that's easy: make him change."

Dutch scoffed, "Very funny," He said before noticing an odd figure appear from the treeline - a lone bay horse walking rather calmly along the path with a stationary figure atop his back, appearing to be holding an object. "What is that?"

Mary-Beth's scream of horror shattered Arthur's heart as the camp had recognized the figure to be Kieran holding his own head. "What the hell have they done to him?" Arthur questioned.

"Look, there in the tree line!" Dutch spoke to Arthur. "Everybody take cover! O'Driscoll's are comin'!" He shouted as the quietness of the swamp filled with immense gunfire.

"Pa!" Arthur heard a young voice say. 'Goddammit! Jack!' He thought to himself as he immediately put his focus on protecting Jack. "Jack! No!" Abigail shouted as the little boy started running into the open gunfire. "Here! John!" Minnie exclaimed as she scooped the boy into her arms, meeting John at the nearest wall of sandbags as John's instincts took over. "Don't worry about shootin', just protect him!" She demanded before taking her repeater from her shoulder, loading a bullet quickly into the chamber as she proceeded to shoot, her mind going blank as fury took over her, shooting the O'Driscoll's left and right, taking out her frustrations on them as she knew Kieran didn't deserve to die, let alone be tortured.

"Women and children inside! Now!" Dutch exclaimed over the gunfire.

"Let's go, women and children in now!" Arthur repeated as he had finally made it downstairs after demanding the members not shooting to keep away from the windows.

Mary-Beth cried as she swept past Arthur, grazing his arm as he reached out to her to ensure her safety as his heart broke for the young woman as he pulled her into the house, followed by Karen, Susan, and Abigail who had clung to Jack.

"What in God's name is goin' on?" Arthur questioned before joining Javier and John as they kept the rest of the O'Driscoll's at bay while Bill and Charles kept the left side of the camp secure as most of the enemies were coming from the main path and along the treeline.

"Back to the house! Come on! We're overrun!" Charles shouted as he covered John. "We need to get something in front of that door!" Dutch directed as he reloaded his revolvers. Arthur nodded before pulling over an oak cabinet to barricade the main entry into the house. "Good. Now, everyone, I got this. Get these windows covered quickly. John, you take the windows over there. Charles, you take the side door there. Arthur, you take the windows in the back. Go!"

Running to the backside of the house, Arthur shot as many O'Driscoll's as he could see within his sight, each one dropping like a fly. "Is everyone accounted for?" He demanded over the gunfire.

"I-I think!" John replied.

Nodding, Arthur continued to shoot from his assigned station, seeing the swamp surrounding the plantation carrying a haze of gunsmoke that looked like morning fog. A brief silence fell from the backside of the house, indicating to Arthur that his section had been successfully cleared.

"Take that, you son of a bitch!" He heard a fierce female voice grunt.

"Hey, Marston, where's Minnie?" Arthur quickly asked as he was hoping his suspicions of her being out on the battleground were false.

"I don't know!" He replied as he shot the last O'Driscoll in his vision. "Last I saw her was out front!"

"Well cover me. I heard screamin' from behind the shed out back!"

"Okay."

Jumping through the busted window, Arthur clutched his repeater as he expected another surprise raid, although he could still hear gunfire from the front of the house as it was still under attack. Once turning the corner of the shed, he was astonished to see Sadie stabbing an O'Driscoll with her hunting knife, pinning him against the wall. "Sadie?" Arthur questioned. "Why didn't you get inside?" He asked her as she regained her composure, sheathing her knife as her clothes were now blood-stained. "And miss all this?" She snickered, bending over to loot the O'Driscoll she had just killed. "Come on, Arthur. Your woman is out front helpin' Bill and Javier."

"And to think I thought she'd be inside." He grumbled, upset that she didn't follow directions, although he wasn't surprised.

"You should know better than that, Arthur!" Sadie laughed, loading a bullet into her revolver before taking cover behind a tree. "They're comin' in on boats!" She warned as she and Arthur began shooting at the men coming from the swamp, taking a few minutes to exterminate them into the murky water below.

"I got 'em! We need to work our way back towards the front!"

"That's the plan, Arthur!" Sadie assured him as the pair continued to shoot, slowly making their way to the front of the house, seeing Minnie, Javier, and Bill scattered across the land as they had their own technique of flanking around the main band of enemies before closing in. Soon after Sadie and Arthur had joined, most of the remaining O'Driscoll's began to fall back and run into the woods, dismissing themselves from any further action.

"Hell far," Minnie sighed as she blew a piece of hair from her face. "What in the fuck was all that?"

"I don't know," Arthur shook his head. "Why didn't you get in the house?"

"And miss all this? Please!" She scoffed.

"I said the same thing!" Sadie added.

"Cowards!" Dutch taunted as he exited the house with beads of sweat plastering his forehead and neck.

"Are we okay?" Hosea asked.

"I think so... Except for Kieran here," Dutch sighed. "Poor kid. Mister Swanson, would you take this boy and bury him? Someplace near but not too near."

"Of course. Charles, help me with the body."

"We need to get this place cleaned up," Hosea commented followed by a sigh as he picked up Kieran's head, placing it on his body after Swanson and Charles had picked him up. "Mister Pearson, Miss Grimshaw!"

"Already on it! Come on now, work!"

"Colm O'Driscoll." Dutch scoffed as he kicked the dirt under his feet.

"That man can really hate."

"So can I, Arthur. So can I. We need to get moving. Away from here."

"So, we should start looking for another camp?"

"You ain't thinking big enough, Arthur. You ain't seeing the vastness of our problems and our opportunities!"

"I'm not sure I get you." He shook his head.

"You will, son. You will. Meet me near the trolley station tomorrow afternoon. We got work!"

Arthur sighed as he looked over at John, who had been standing with them during the brief conversation. "Shall we?" He grumbled.

"Sure."

"I'm gonna go help Missus Adler get cleaned up," Minnie spoke to Arthur. "I think I have some clothes that'll fit her."

"Okay."

#arthurmorgan #arthur morgan #minniebarlow #reddeadredemption2 #rdr2 #rdr2fanfiction

2 notes · View notes

annaphoenix1994 · 2 years

Text

Masterlist Here:

Clemons Point - A Short Walk in a Pretty Town

Catherine Braithwaite chewed on her freshly prepared filet mignon violently as it was clear hatred and aggravation was coursing through her veins. Tom and Charlie, her very best and highly respected bounty hunters, had been shot dead and found cold in the cornfields that neighbored her manor. She looked at her last two sons across the table as they were frightened by her, knowing that their assignment had failed.

Gareth cleared his throat, hesitating before he spoke as he rehearsed his question in his head, "Um... So, do we know what happened?..."

"You stupid moron!" Bartholomew whispered harshly across the table at him.

"We know that Tom and Charlie were killed by the same scum who took our horses!" Catherine hissed, throwing down her fork onto the plate as Gareth and Bartholomew jumped from the sudden sharp noise.

"Y-Yes, mother, but we found Tom and Charlie's notes from their duties. W-We also found his other two men at the stakeout camp on the main road. They said two fellers came up and demanded where their friend was and they spoke and led them to Tom and Charlie..."

"Well, fire them for getting my two best men killed!" Catherine snarled. "Gareth, do you have these notes?" She asked, her eyebrow raised.

"Y-Yes... They're in the cabinet upstairs in your office."

"Go get them, I want to read them," She demanded. "I don't care if official business affects my dinner."

"Yes, ma'am." Gareth nodded as he excused himself from the table, making haste at retrieving Tom and Charlie's notes from their mission before handing the papers to his mother, sitting back down as he watched her read Tom's notes first:

𝒫𝑜𝓈𝓈𝒾𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝑔𝒶𝓃𝑔 𝓇𝑒𝓈𝒾𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓉 𝒞𝓁𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝒫𝑜𝒾𝓃𝓉 - 𝒲𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒹 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓃𝓉 - 𝒜𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝑒𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝓌𝑜 𝓌𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝓂𝑒𝒹.

Catherine's brow rose at Tom's handwriting with an idea popping into her head, "Both of you find a way to Clemons Point and confirm that a gang is there." She stated.

"But h-how do we do that?"

"Get a boat for all I care," She retorted. "Look for Mister Matthews. He's the older man who came up here with the other two idiots the night he sent them to burn the tobacco fields."

Bartholomew nodded, watching her fondle with the papers before reading Charlie's notes:

𝓕𝓪𝓷𝓬𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓷 𝓼𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓪𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓲𝓷 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝓲𝓷 𝓡𝓱𝓸𝓭𝓮𝓼 𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓼𝓾𝓼𝓹𝓲𝓬𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓵𝔂 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝓬𝓵𝓮𝓻𝓴... 𝓚𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓪 "𝓭𝓲𝓼𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓪𝓰𝓮𝓭 𝓶𝓪𝓷" 𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓭 𝓐𝓻𝓽𝓱𝓾𝓻, 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓪𝓭 𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓭𝓮𝓷 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓱𝓲𝓶 𝓪𝓽 𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓹𝓸𝓲𝓷𝓽. 𝓣𝓸𝓶 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓘 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓪 𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓶𝓪𝓷'𝓼 𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓪𝓯𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓿𝓪𝓷 𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓪𝓭 𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰.

𝓢𝓾𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓬𝓽 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓭 - 𝓼𝓹𝓸𝓴𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓪 𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 𝔀𝓱𝓸𝓶 𝓱𝓮 𝓴𝓷𝓮𝔀 𝓪𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓼𝓮 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓼. 𝓓𝓲𝓭 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓶 𝓰𝓪𝓷𝓰-𝓻𝓮𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓽𝔂. 𝓢𝓲𝓭𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮 - 𝓘𝓽 𝓱𝓪𝓼 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓶𝓮𝓭 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓢𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓯𝓯 𝓖𝓻𝓪𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓙𝓲𝓶 𝓑𝓻𝓪𝓲𝓽𝓱𝔀𝓪𝓲𝓽𝓮'𝓼 𝓭𝓮𝓬𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮𝓭 𝓫𝓸𝓭𝔂 𝓱𝓪𝓼 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓫𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓪 𝓻𝓮𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓭 𝓸𝓯 $500 𝓫𝔂 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓮 𝓑𝓪𝓻𝓵𝓸𝔀, 𝔀𝓱𝓸'𝓼 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓾𝓼 𝓱𝓪𝓼 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓶𝓮𝓭 𝓫𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓪𝓾 𝓖𝓻𝓪𝔂 𝓸𝓯 𝓡𝓱𝓸𝓭𝓮𝓼.

"Minnie Barlow," Catherine scoffed. "I know of her."

"Yeah... She robbed your Italian friend a few years back." Gareth corrected.

She arched her brow as she set the note on the table next to her plate, "Perhaps my dear friend Angelo Bronte would love to hear about her whereabouts," She smirked. "You boys ride out in the morning and confirm that Mister Matthews is hiding out at Clemons Point. If there's a child there, kidnap him and bring him here. I'm going to send a telegram to Mister Bronte and inform him about the situation. He can surely make some good money with the child."

"....Ain't that evil?" Bartholomew dared to ask.

"No more evil than killing our family to help another!" She hissed as she began to feel manipulated just as much as humiliated, which she didn't take kindly - perhaps the only thing she and sheriff Gray had in common.

───※ ·❆· ※───

Arthur and Minnie rode into Rhodes at the request of Dutch as he informed him of the message that Micah, Bill, and Sean were waiting on them in town for yet another opportunity. Minnie grumbled, "I have a knot in my stomach."

"Why, darlin'?" Arthur asked as they slowed their horses to a walk.

"Just have a bad feelin' about this. Wherever Micah is, there's gonna be a trouble of some sort."

Arthur sighed, "I know. Let's just hope Bill and Sean have their heads on right."

"They seem to better than him." She scoffed.

"I understand." He nodded as he and Minnie dismounted their horses, loosely tying them to the hitching post just outside the bank as Micah and Bill were lounging on the steps while Sean stood against the wall.

Micah sneered, "We've been waitin' on ya, Arthur, but now I know why you took so long."

"Well, I'm sorry to have kept you!" Arthur scoffed. "I clearly had better things to do."

"That much is clear. C'mon, let's get going," Micah hissed as he led the group down the dusty main street of Rhodes. Minnie immediately felt uneasy as the usual Friday morning crowd was nowhere to be found. Locals resided in the buildings, only a select few standing outside. No other horses were around nor was there the fresh smell of buttermilk biscuits and stew brewing from the Parlor House and general store as the shopkeeper made fresh meals every day as well for his own extra income. She narrowed her eyes as she spotted a lawman leaned against one of the light poles in town, his legs crossed at his ankles as his arms were folded across his chest.

"They spoke to Bill about a job needing security." Micah continued.

"After the farce of stealin' the horses for them, why we doing this?" Arthur scoffed as he and Minnie stayed back behind the group.

"'Cause we need to stay in with them...and they're paying."

"So what kind of security they want?"

"We're about to find out. Now come on!"

"This seem legit to you, Bill?" Arthur questioned, his tone now demanding as it was his personal cue to start to panic.

"Sure." Bill nodded.

"Dutch said we was to keep on dealing with them until we find this gold." Micah said almost too loudly for any other ear around, confirming that they were not there for security.

"Can we trust them?" Sean asked.

"Can we trust anyone?" Arthur added.

"I don't know, Arthur, you tell me!" Micah said as he looked at Minnie from over his shoulder. "Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer..." He taunted.

"The fuck you tryna say?" Minnie hissed, pulling out her revolver as she wasn't about to care if she shot him dead.

"What's wrong with ya, Barlow? Got somethin' to hide?"

"Absolutely not, but I'll be hidin' your body from Dutch if you keep runnin' that dick sucker!" She warned.

"Control your woman, Morgan. While you're at it, put some soap in that filthy mouth of hers." Micah snickered as he knew he was getting under their skin.

"They said there was some big misunderstanding about them horses..." Bill said, taking the attention off of Minnie as he knew it could get worse if their bickering continued.

"And... What about burning their fields?" Sean asked.

"They don't know we had anything to do with that!" Micah retorted.

"Oh, that so?"

"They think it was the Braithwaites. Listen, I know these Gray boys a bit now. This is on the level!" Bill explained.

"We're stuck in the middle of some ancient feud, but instead of playin' both sides we're bein' used by both of 'em!" Arthur said.

"They were sayin' that Catherine Braithwaite-" Bill started to say.

"Hey, hold up. This don't feel right," Arthur said. Minnie stopped in her tracks, grabbing Arthur's left hand as he felt her nervousness, which was unusual. She squeezed his fingers, getting his attention as he fully understood that her uncomfortable feeling before they met up with the others was about to be absolutely right. She narrowed her eyes at the lawman who had been leaned up against the light pole, seeing that the hammer on his revolver was pulled back, indicating that he was expecting trouble.

"Now it don't feel right, I could'a told ya-" Sean went to say before the sharp gunshot and collision with his head stopped him in the middle of his sentence, his body slamming to the ground as he had a fresh hole in his head.

They were being ambushed.

Arthur pulled out his revolver as he pushed Minnie in front of him, pinning her to the stack of crates as she clutched his arm. "You okay?" He asked as he took a couple of shots after his question. Her face was flushed and was as white as cotton - she was stunned. "You need to speak to me!" Arthur said, his tone higher as he was more worried about her than the situation before them.

"Sean...I-" She panted as she forced herself to pull out her revolver.

"I know. I know," Arthur sighed. "They're comin' in from all sides. We need to move!" He continued as he reloaded his revolver, sheathing it in his holster before taking his repeater from his shoulder, continuing to shoot before Minnie soon joined him with tears streaming down her face as she was still tormented by watching Sean get murdered right in front of her.

"Them bastards are in the gun store!" Micah yelled. "Morgan, you take the back, I'll take the front!"

Arthur nodded as he ran towards the gunsmith after making sure Minnie was in a safe spot from the shooting. He shot two more Grays before entering through the backside of the building, shooting two more that had been hiding inside. "Some of the bastards are ridin' in on horses!" Arthur shouted to Micah before using the stock on his repeater to knock out the glass, giving him protection from the gunfire as well as a clear view. With every split second he got, his eyes darted towards Minnie and Bill's direction, making sure that they were not in any trouble. As Minnie moved in towards the center of town, the amount of Grays began to thin out with every shot.

She tapped a dead Gray's corpse as she double-checked to make sure he was dead as the dust had started to settle within the town. Micah and Arthur walked out of the abandoned gun store with their repeaters over their shoulder as they regained their breath. "Look at you, saving the day I see." Micah sneered.

"Shut the hell up." She scoffed as she rolled her eyes.

"What? Afraid I'll take all of your glory?" He poked.

"Not at all, but I will take the glory after I kill your ass!" She replied as she stepped closer to him, her demeanor taunting him.

"All talk, honey," Micah replied as he too stepped closer. "Looks to me like you're guilty - guilty of tellin' them about us and where we're hidin'!" He accused.

"I did no such thing!" She scoffed. "Funny how someone always gets hurt or killed when you're around! How do we know that you didn't rat? Huh?" She shouted.

"Because I'm one of the loyal ones, unlike you!"

"More like a loyal piece of shit!"

Micah's fists balled as he went to lunge at her only to be stopped by Arthur as he had stayed back a couple of feet during their argument. He slung him into the dirt as he tried to catch himself on his arms. "I don't think so," Arthur growled before standing over him and unsheathing his revolver, aiming it at him. "If you ever lay a finger on her, I'll kill you now and make my apologies to Dutch later." He warned.

Micah snickered as he slowly made his way back onto his feet, "You won't kill me, Morgan. You don't have the guts!"

"But I do!" Minnie said as she attempted to lunge at him, but stopped by Arthur's arm bracing against her.

"Where's Bill?" Arthur asked as he used his body to keep her away from Micah as he watched him walk towards the sheriff's office.

"Maybe he was smart and ran off... Coulda been better off without him anyway, now c'mon." Micah replied.

Arthur stayed back briefly before turning to face Minnie, grabbing her by her shoulders, "Listen to me: I'm gonna do my best to keep him away from you, but you don't need to be nudging it on with that mouth of yours." Arthur preached.

"But-"

"No buts about it, darlin', but look: I don't like him as much as you don't, but we can't be causin' problems like this outside of camp then bringin' it back to camp. I don't want to watch tensions come between us or anyone else in camp-"

She looked down to avoid eye contact with him as she knew he was right, "I-I'm sorry, Arthur," She frowned. "I've just always been too blunt for accusals..."

"And there ain't nothin' wrong with that. We just gotta learn how to manage it and not use it at the wrong time," He encouraged her as he now had her face in his hands. "You'll be able to get your frustrations out on him one day and I'll be glad to watch!" He commented.

"Believe me, I'm counting them down." She chuckled.

"Sheriff Gray!" They heard Micah yell. Arthur looked at her before he nodded for her to follow him as they made their way to the sheriff's office to confront Leigh Gray for one final time. "You need to get a hold on this town! It's goin' to Hell!"

"Who do you think you are? A bunch of two-bit thugs from God knows where? You're so dumb to think we don't know what you been doing!"

"Come out, sheriff!" Micah demanded. "It's over!"

"We've put down far worse than you! A hundred times over!"

"Where've we heard that before?" Minnie said to herself, causing Arthur to chuckle at her.

"This is the Gray's town! Always has been - always will be!" Leigh continued.

"Only Grays I see left around here is you!" Micah hissed.

"You want us to come out? We'll come out!" Leigh replied before the single door to the office opened, revealing Leigh holding Bill hostage while Archibald and two new deputies followed, aiming their rifles at Arthur, Minnie, and Micah.

"Oh... Bill..." Arthur sighed as he was unsure on how he would get Bill out of the mess.

"Guns on the ground. Now! All three of you!"

"You know we can't do that! You put the gun down, sheriff!" Arthur shouted.

"I'll blow his brains out!"

"Not if we don't first!" Minnie replied as she was the first to draw her revolver while Arthur and Micah followed quickly. All four men dropping at a rhythm. Bill stood in shock, looking at what had just happened, thankful that he had gotten to see another day in eighteen ninety-nine. "Shit!" Bill panted as he quickly made his way towards the group as they now walked to pay their respects to their fallen member.

Sean lay in his own pool of blood, his mouth open and his features seeming to be frozen in time as Minnie remembered the same look on his face before his life was taken. Arthur sighed as he knelt down next to him. "He was a good kid." He frowned.

"Well, how the hell was I to know?" Bill grumbled as he picked up Sean's shotgun.

"Let me see..." Arthur growled as he stood to his feet to face him while Minnie immediately grabbed his sleeve, pulling him back as she knew not only was he upset about losing Sean but upset that he had relentlessly told Dutch about how playing two families was not a good idea in the end. "They set us up once before. They didn't like us, we destroyed their farm, should I go on?" He shouted.

"Go easy on him, Morgan," Micah intervened. "He was out trying to find a lead, same as you, same as Hosea. All you do is complain when things don't work out except when it's your goddamn fault!"

"You don't know what you're talkin' about! You don't give a damn about nobody but yourself!"

"Oh, you act so high and mighty, but you're no better than the rest of us!" Micah pointed as Arthur had released from Minnie's grip to carefully sling Sean's corpse over his shoulder. "I've ridden with you boys close to on what six months now? And all you ever done was complain! And you can fight, but you can't think!"

"You can't do either." Arthur hissed as he carried Sean to Bill's horse, carefully draping him over Brown Jack's hindquarters.

"Okay, cowpoke." Micah scoffed.

"Bill, take the boy's body. Bury him proper someplace quiet. Micah, best you and I don't speak for a moment," Arthur grumbled as he glared at the greasy blonde-headed outlaw.

"I'm just so frightened by you!" Micah sneered.

"Get outta my sight you pair of fools," He mumbled as he mounted Dahlia, waiting for Minnie to mount Trace. "Let's go hunting or something?" He suggested to her.

"You want to now?" She asked. "Won't there be trouble around camp?"

Arthur shook his head, "I don't think so. We're pretty well hidden this time. I don't think anyone from either family could find us since we almost always split up."

She nodded, "Where are we gonna go?"

"Somewhere in the Heartlands. You and I need to get away for a bit. It's getting to be too much," He frowned as she now took notice of his heartbreak towards Sean. She knew that he was annoying as a little brother, but he was cherished nonetheless. "We'll come back to camp later tonight."

"I understand." She nodded as she proceeded to follow Arthur as he had a location in mind, which was secluded, quiet, and almost impossible to be found by any member of the gang, giving the ultimate advantage of taking a break for a while.

───※ ·❆· ※───

"Jack?" Abigail asked as she bunched up her skirts as she knelt down to his level, seeing that he had been drawing stick figures in the dirt while Cain was laying on his side as it was now clear that the dog was Jack's companion.

"Momma?" He asked as he acknowledged her.

"It's getting late, why aren't you in bed?" She asked.

"I'm not sleepy." He frowned as he looked down at his dirt drawing.

"Are you feeling okay?" Abigail frowned, running her fingers through his dirty blonde hair.

"Yes," He nodded. "Uncle Hosea read me this story about how this little boy had secret friends who lived in the woods under rocks! They were, um... Fairies? Y-Yeah, fairies! Their homes are under big rocks that have their house built in them and they fly around at night and the boy made friends with them and they gave him some of their powers and he learned to fly too!" Jack explained, his voice was heightened and his brown eyes bright with excitement.

Abigail smiled, "That's why I've been seein' those little lights in the woods at night!" She said, referring to the fireflies that were seen floating in the night air.

Jack nodded, "Yeah! Me and Cain tried to make friends with them, but they won't talk to us!" He frowned.

"I'm sure they're just shy!" Abigail assured him.

"I hope I'm not too scary for them." He frowned.

"Absolutely not! But you have to remember that you're twice their size, so they may be nervous! Maybe you just have to talk to them first!" Abigail smiled, feeding into his growing imagination.

"Really?"

"Sure! But don't go tryin' to talk to them this late in the night, okay?"

"Yes, momma."

"Good. You get some rest. Your father and I will be in for bed soon." She said as she placed a kiss on Jack's forehead.

───※ ·❆· ※───

Jack's eyes fluttered open at the sound of slight rustling in the woods close to the tent. He sat up quickly, seeing that John and Abigail were fast asleep as it was well past midnight.

"Cain! Wake up!" Jack whispered to the dog, rubbing him just behind his ears. "The fairies are here! They're real!"

Cain grunted as he slowly made his way to stand, stretching his body downwards before he yawned. Jack moved slowly out of the tent to avoid waking up his parents, seeing that only one person was out of their tent in camp: Uncle, who had been perched up next to a tree with a bottle of beer laying beside him.

Jack crouched down as he made his way towards the woods, careful to go around where he knew someone would be up to guard the camp. His chocolate eyes widened as he saw the many "fairies", or fireflies, floating about the sky. Excited, he started to skip down the trail with Cain following suit.

"Hello?" Jack heard a soft voice say. "H-Hello?" Jack replied, his tone excited as he thought the fairy theory was true. "Are you a fairy?"

"Yes! How did you know?" The voice replied in a higher pitch.

"I read about you in stories!" Jack answered, holding Cain's collar that was made out of one of Charles' old belts. Cain had a low growl to him as he was uneasy about the situation, but Jack did not recognize Cain's behavior to be anything but defensive. "I didn't think you would talk to me!"

"We apologize, son!" The voice replied, giving Jack hope that he had a new mythical friend that he could tell his uncle Hosea about.

"W-Where are you?" Jack asked, walking further down the trail that led out of camp.

"We're just over here! Close to the main road!" The voice said. "We have a gift for you!"

"Really?" Jack asked, gripping Cain's collar as he was walking slowly towards the voice. "W-What is it?"

"You gotta get close enough, you silly goose!" The voice giggled. "Do you see me?"

"No..." Jack replied as he and Cain finally reached the main road.

"Good!" The voice, belonging to Gareth Braithwaite said before he leapt from the thick brush, grabbing the young boy and clutching his mouth shut with his hand. Bartholomew took a nearby stick and used it to hit Cain across his back, asserting the demeanor that he needed to stay back. "Get out of here you mutt! Git!" Bartholomew hissed. "We got him!" He said to his brother. "Now what?"

"You go back to the main road and get the horses, I'll go through the brush for a bit to keep us split up. Meet me up the way in a few minutes." Gareth explained as he held Jack close to him.

Bartholomew nodded, "What're we gonna do with him?"

"Momma said that she heard back from Bronte. She hired a crew to take the kid to him tonight because she knows those people are gonna come for us. I reckon old Gray done shot 'em up in town earlier." Gareth explained.

"Okay."

"Get going. We don't have much time!" Gareth directed as he and his brother parted ways. "If you see anyone, just act like you're lost!" He explained as he held Jack close, his rough hand still covering his mouth. He was surprised that Jack wasn't putting up much of a fight as he still seemed stunned and confused. "Come on you little shit." Gareth hissed as he took off running through the woods as he and Bartholomew split ways.

Bartholomew caught his breath as he made it back to their horses, mounting his own before grabbing Gareth's horse's reins, tethering the mare to his horse as they walked down the main road, doing their best to look inconspicuous. "Howdy," He nodded to a young man who seemed to be around the area.

"You lost, Mister?" He replied.

"Little bit!" Bartholomew chuckled. "Been out huntin' and rode up on a clearing back that way and I immediately turned around! Didn't wanna cause no trouble!" He chuckled suspiciously.

Kieran narrowed his eyes at him as he had been riding back from a hunting trip, "Okay, buddy." He replied, watching the suspicious fellow ride away, wondering where the other rider was that belonged to the tethered mare the man had been leading. He waited a few moments before riding back into camp, shaking his head at the suspicious activity.

"Kieran coming in!" He announced as he trotted past Hosea, who was relieving Javier from guard duty. "Got us a turkey for dinner tomorrow!" He said, proud of himself.

Hosea nodded, "Good lookin' bird, son. We'll be eatin' good tomorrow night!"

"Thank you, sir. Say, you seen that feller over there outside of camp?" He asked.

"No, I can't say that I have." Hosea shrugged.

"O-Okay. He said he was out hunting and accidentally came up on our camp and left before I could ask too many questions. Bu-But he had another horse with him with an empty saddle and I didn't see anyone else."

"Thank you for the observation, Mister Duffy," Hosea thanked. "Perhaps it was nothing but an innocent man."

"I don't know. I guess I'm paranoid about all this stuff goin' on. If I had to point fingers, I'd say they looked like Braithwaite boys, but I'm not certain,"

Hosea sighed, "I suppose you haven't heard about Sean?"

"No?" Kieran shook his head.

"We lost him today," He frowned. "He, Arthur, Minnie, Bill, and Micah got ambushed in Rhodes this afternoon and lost him."

"Christ," Kieran frowned. "How's Karen?" He asked, recalling the many times he, Mary-Beth, Karen, and Sean would go on a group fishing trip together, taking note on how sweet they were on one another just like he and Mary-Beth.

"Heartbroken. I wouldn't mention any condolences to her as it would make it worse for her sake," Hosea warned. "The camp has been quiet tonight to remember him."

Kieran nodded as he dismounted Branwen along with the turkey he had killed on his way back to camp, slinging the bird over his shoulder as he tried to act as calm as he could to give peace to Sean's memory.

───※ ·❆· ※───

𝓗𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓪𝓷 𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓸𝔂𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓫𝓻𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓸 𝓶𝓮. 𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓯𝓾𝓷 𝔀𝓮 𝓱𝓪𝓭 𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓸𝓰𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻. 𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓪 𝓰𝓸𝓭𝓭𝓪𝓶𝓷 𝓶𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝔀𝓮'𝓻𝓮 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼.

Arthur stared at the fresh ink splayed on the blank sheet of paper in his journal, looking through the small fire at Minnie as she prepared the rabbit they had just killed for their dinner. She looked so beautiful to him and he couldn't be prouder to say that he loved her, except he just couldn't tell her yet. He took a deep breath as he still had many thoughts on his mind that he wanted to jot down, but felt like he didn't find the urgency to.

"You okay?" He heard Minnie ask.

"Yeah," Arthur sighed. "Just thinkin'."

"You've never been one to keep your thoughts to yourself," Minnie replied. "Either you talk or you write 'em down and I haven't seen you do either. You wanna talk about it?" She asked.

"It's just... I-I don't know. I guess I'm thinkin' about everything that's goin' on. We lost Sean and I feel like I could've done somethin' about it." He frowned.

"You can't blame yourself, Arthur. It wasn't your fault that Sean got killed. In truth, it wasn't anyone's fault. They were planning to kill all of us and they, unfortunately, didn't get Micah and spare Sean." She grumbled.

"How do you think the Grays found out about us anyway?"

Minnie shrugged, "I don't know. It's too hard to say. I think we just made one too many appearances in town and people talk. The Grays ran everything within a twenty-mile radius, maybe more than that. They had people workin' for them who were just honest folk. People are also very observant. When you think about it, if you lived in Rhodes for decades and know how to spot a stranger out of a crowd, wouldn't you keep your eye on 'em? Especially if there's talk of both rival families getting hoodwinked all of a sudden?"

"I guess you're right. It does make sense."

"But, I wouldn't be surprised if someone close to us talked..."

"Micah?"

"Abso-damn-lutely! He may be tryin' to blame me but he also doesn't know the difference between a sneeze and a wet fart, the goddamn moron," She scoffed, chuckling along with Arthur at her saying. "I wish I could talk Dutch into paying more attention to how Micah has been lately. With all this shit goin' on, I wouldn't be one bit surprised if the Pinkertons showed up."

"You think they'll find us?"

"As long as Micah's runnin' with us, they will."

───※ ·❆· ※───

𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝑀𝓈. 𝐵𝓇𝒶𝒾𝓉𝒽𝓌𝒶𝒾𝓉𝑒,

𝐼𝓃 𝓇𝑒𝑔𝒶𝓇𝒹𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓇𝑒𝒸𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝑒𝓁𝑒𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓂, 𝐼 𝓈𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓁𝓎 𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓇𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓇𝑒𝑔𝒶𝓇𝒹𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝓁 𝓌𝑒 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝒹𝒾𝓈𝒸𝓊𝓈𝓈𝑒𝒹 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑜𝓎 - 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝑔𝓁𝒶𝒹𝓁𝓎 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝒾𝓃 𝑒𝓍𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝑀𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒾𝑒 𝐵𝒶𝓇𝓁𝑜𝓌; 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓈, 𝒾𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝒸𝒸𝓊𝓈𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝑒! 𝐼𝒻 𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒹𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓉𝒻𝓊𝓁, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑜𝓎 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒷𝑒 𝑜𝓃 𝒶 𝒷𝑜𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝐼𝓉𝒶𝓁𝓎 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒸𝓊𝓇𝓇𝑒𝓃𝒸𝓎 𝑒𝓍𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒.

𝑅𝑒𝑔𝒶𝓇𝒹𝓈,

𝒜𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓁𝑜 𝐵𝓇𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒

#arthurmorgan #arthur morgan #minniebarlow #reddeadredemption2 #rdr2 #rdr2fanfiction

2 notes · View notes

annaphoenix1994 · 2 years

Text

Masterlist Here:

Clemons Point - Further Questions of Female Suffrage

The trio returned to camp by a borrowed boat as they had used it to go fishing that evening, singing silly songs along the way as the whiskey they took with them gave them the confidence to pierce the natural silence with their gruff voices to substitute the disappointment of not catching any decent fish, only a bass and a few Bluegill. "Alright, I think... I, well I mean we, are gonna be okay," Dutch said as he leaned back in the boat, draping his arms along the sides, proud of himself for having a fresh start with the gang's runaway lifestyle. "I know. I always know. Whenever I got you two by my side, things are gonna be just fine. This place will be good for us. For now, anyway."

"I hope so." Hosea mumbled as Arthur sighed, following him towards camp from the shore.

"Reckon he should be a preacher." Arthur chuckled to the old man.

"You're tellin' me. Seems like all he does is preach!" Hosea chuckled. "I'm gonna go drop these off to Mister Pearson. I reckon dinner will be done soon!"

"Okay," Arthur replied. "I'm gonna go wash up." He said as he made his way towards his tent, going through the chest at the foot of his cot to get a fresh set of clothes to go over a clean union suit. He couldn't wait to go to the private area of the camp to wash as he still had the smell of fish on his hands.

"Miss Barlow," He greeted as he passed her on his way to the water, noting that she too finished washing as her hair was barely dry and the immaculate smell of linen surrounded her. He couldn't help but imagine how warm her skin would feel against his and how soft she was. He swallowed the lump in his throat as her hazel eyes met his as she gently tousled her fingers through her clean hair.

"Arthur," She smiled. "Bout time you washed up!" She teased.

He smirked, "You know that ain't me. I can't stand feelin' like I'm stinkin'!"

"Sure, that's not what Grimshaw says! Says she always had to make you wash up!" She laughed.

"She don't know what she's talkin' about," He shook his head.

"Whatever you say, Mister Morgan," She chuckled. "See you around, cowboy." She winked.

'Goddamn she drives me crazy,' He mumbled to himself as an inappropriate image reflected in his mind, smirking at the thought of bending her over a boulder at the lake for everyone to see - to see what was his and what they couldn't have. He was thankful that dusk had finally settled into darkness as he bared his all walking into the lake, running his fingers through his hair after he dunked his head under the water. He quickly used the new musky soap he purchased from the general store to clean himself quickly as he was now more than eager to dry off as the realization that it had been a long day was now settling in.

He soon made his way back to camp, smelling of tobacco and clean leather, mixing with his natural scent. He liked how musky the soap was as he could still smell it on him after he had put on his dry clothes, thinking that he wasn't going to be able to keep Minnie off of him, which he didn't mind. He sat his dirty clothes in his tent before noticing a small letter on his side table:

𝓜𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓶𝔂 𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓼𝓸 𝓘 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂 𝓯𝓪𝓬𝓮, 𝓬𝓸𝔀𝓫𝓸𝔂.

𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓮

His heart fluttered as he read the note, wondering what she was planning, hoping that she knew that it was too early to be making obvious signs of a relationship within the camp. He looked around, seeing that only a few members of the gang were about, nursing a bottle of beer as they were about to retire for the night. He took note that Minnie had already gone to her tent for the night as both of the flaps were down and tied shut to prevent a draft opening them. He smirked to himself as he took off his hat, setting it on the side table as well as his satchel before sneaking off to the brief outskirt of the camp, sneaking into her tent from behind, seeing that she was sitting at her makeshift armoire made out of crates, combing her naturally wavy hair as she was in her chemise.

He cleared his throat, "Erm... You wrote for me..." He said, his breath hitching as he couldn't take his eyes off of her perfect neck as her hair had draped over her shoulders.

She bit her bottom lip, "I sure did," She replied, turning around to face him on her chair before standing to her feet. "You didn't answer my question when we were back in Rhodes. What happened to your face?" She whispered, now only a foot away from him, her hand coming up to touch his face, frowning at the bruise around his eye.

"I-I got into a fight."

"Really now? I never would've guessed," She rolled her eyes. "Is it sore? Any other injuries I should know about?"

He chuckled, "No, ma'am. I can take care of myself." He teased.

"Well, then I guess you'll be just fine sleepin' by yourself tonight while I'm in here all alone without the warmth of a big and strong man." She giggled, acting as if she was going to walk away.

He took in a deep breath as he now had the opportunity to kiss her again, knowing he didn't have many chances between the first time and then. He gently grabbed her wrist, pulling her back towards him, "I don't think so, Miss Barlow." He growled, watching her giggle as she placed her warm palm on his cheek, pulling his face closer to hers.

"You sure like gettin' what you want, huh?" She asked, her lips against his.

"I sure do, especially when it's somethin' I really want." He replied.

"That so?"

"Very." He grumbled, hesitating slightly before wrapping his arms around the small of her back, pulling her closer into him, desperately wanting to feel her body against his.

"You're real gentle with me, Arthur Morgan." She giggled.

"Would you rather me be rough?" He questioned, a chuckle waiting to release from his throat.

"Maybe..." She grinned, pulling away to look into his eyes briefly before feeling his palms grip just below her buttocks, pulling her up effortlessly onto him as her legs wrapped around his waist as she couldn't help but giggle. He found the sound of her voice more than arousing as his lips found the base of her neck as her arms were wrapped around his shoulders, her hands combing through his hair. "Arthur!" She giggled.

"Don't distract me, darlin'." He chuckled as he walked towards her cot, sitting down with her now on his lap.

She giggled as she tugged on his hair gently, getting his attention to look at her, in which he did. "What're you gonna do about it?" She whispered through the dim lighting as the glow from the campfire penetrated through her canvas tent.

He cleared his throat as he hesitated briefly before latching his lips to her neck, trailing small and delicate kisses along her skin. He held her to him selfishly as if his life depended on it. She leaned her head back, opening up her neck for him as her right hand left his shoulder to drape the straps of her chemise from her shoulders, letting the fabric fall down gently, exposing her breasts to him. She felt his lips halt against her skin as she knew he was studying what was presented to him. She was afraid that he was going to decline any intimate activity and that they were moving too fast, but she was greeted with the total opposite. His hands left the small of her back, sliding up her abdomen gently before cupping her breasts in his hands. She bit her lip as she felt his erection straining against his trousers, rolling her hips ever so slightly to earn a sharp wince from him as his other hand gripped her thigh, holding her still. "I'm gonna warn you: if we do this, people in camp'll know what we're up to and tease you about it." He warned.

She scoffed, "I don't give a damn. They're just jealous that they're not on your lap!" She giggled, kissing his cheek before making a trail of her own back to his lips, her hands now exploring his broad chest. Their breaths were hard as they didn't want to separate from each other any time soon. A small moan released into his mouth as she felt his hands cup her breasts again, gently twisting her nipple between his index finger and thumb, the gesture more than inviting as she wanted nothing more but for him to be on top of her. He helped her remove his jacket as she started to unbutton the top buttons of his union suit, her fingers splaying across his skin through his chest hair.

His lips made their way back to her neck, his tongue sweeping over her skin gently with every kiss as he slowly moved down towards her breast, taking her left nipple into his mouth as he caressed the other breast gently as she rolled her hips again, grazing on his erection even more. "Someone's excited." She teased, her voice hushed at a whisper.

"Can ya blame me? I got the most beautiful outlaw in the world straddlin' me. I can't help it." He replied in between kisses.

"Stop your lyin'!" She giggled.

"I ain't lyin', Miss." He sighed.

She couldn't help but giggle into the kiss, rolling her hips into him hard, hearing a slight moan from his lips present itself. "I'm not gonna be able to keep you quiet." He groaned, gripping her hips, holding her down on his erection as she continued to roll her hips onto him.

"Is that so?" She teased, loving the feeling of his hands gripping her hips tightly.

She felt him nod as his lips were now slightly above her breasts, "Give me a minute and I'll prove it to ya." He said as he hoisted her up as he stood to his feet before setting her down gently on her cot, moving between her legs. She giggled as she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling his hips into her, feeling all of him being separated by a thin piece of fabric. He continued to kiss and nibble on her neck, leaving a couple of marks at the base of her neck, marking her as his own. He ran his hand down her side, avoiding contact with her healing wound as his fingers delicately lifted up the fabric of her chemise.

"Oy, old Uncle. How much you think we can get on this tip I got?" They heard a drunken Sean slur from nearby outside the tent.

"I don't know." Uncle chuckled.

"I guess there's one way to find out, aye," Sean chuckled. "I'm gonna turn it for the night ya old bastard."

"Oh shit." Minnie groaned as she recognized Sean's voice to be too close to her tent. By how drunk he sounded, she was afraid he was thinking that her tent was his by mistake.

"It's just Sean bein' Sean." Arthur replied, not paying much attention.

"No, Arthur, he's comin' in here! I see his shadow!" She whispered, her palms pressed firmly on his chest.

"If he does, it'll be the last time he stumbles into someone's tent." He warned. Just as he was about to sit up, Sean had completely stumbled into Minnie's tent, laughing as he got a mouth full of dirt. "Sorry, Miss Barlow- Oh Jesus, look at that!" He said, his jaw dropped.

Arthur quickly covered her with his jacket, standing to his feet and grabbing Sean by his collar, "You keep your eyes off of her, you understand?" He said sternly, shielding her from Sean's vision.

He nodded, "Y-Yeah, Arthur... I didn't see nothin', I promises ya!" He stuttered.

"You better not have," Arthur growled. "Now get out of here and go find your own tent."

"Y-Y-Yes, Arthur. I-I'm on me way right now!" He said as he stumbled backward after Arthur released him.

Arthur wiped his palm over his face, shaking his head as he couldn't believe what just happened. He prayed that Sean was too drunk to remember what he just did. That, and he better not hear a word about it around camp. He turned back to look at Minnie after hearing a slight giggle from her, "I guess that's a good example as to why we should get a room?"

He chuckled, "Maybe," His adrenaline slowed his sex drive immaculately, now not in "the mood" as he was now expecting more unexpected visitors throughout the night. Instead, he made his way back to her cot, laying down next to her, his back to the canvas of her tent, looking at how the dim lantern light made her skin glow like caramel and her hair shine as it splayed over the thin pillow. "You're so beautiful."

She blushed, "I don't think so, Mister Morgan."

"You don't think much of anythin', so your opinion of yourself is overlooked," He chuckled, his lips delivering a soft kiss to her forehead. "I'll get you alone one of these days."

"I'm countin' 'em down, cowboy," She teased. "Besides, I never minded puttin' on a show."

He shook his head, "Well, I don't doubt it, darlin', but I'm also selfish as to not sharing what's mine either."

She giggled as she snuggled into his side, her left leg draped over his and her head nestled in the crook of his arm as he drew lazy circles on her shoulder. "You selfish bastard." She teased.

"Yeah, I know it." He chuckled as he pressed another kiss to her forehead.

───※ ·❆· ※───

"Whatchu thinkin' about?" Arthur asked as he looked down at a half-awake Minnie, her fingers lazily sprawled across his chest as she was in the same position she fell asleep in. She took a deep breath as she was still trying to wake up after a good night of sleep, "I miss my ma and pa." She frowned.

He squeezed her closer to him as he rubbed her arm, "I'm sorry, darlin'." He whispered, his cheek pressed against the top of her head.

"It's not your fault," She sighed. "I just hope he's takin' care of momma up there."

"I don't doubt it. I had a conversation with him in Valentine once." He replied, smiling down at her as she looked up at him.

"You did?"

"Sure. When we first came to New Hanover, we went to Valentine to look around. I met him sitting outside the general store and we talked for a bit. He talked about your mother and you but didn't mention your name as he didn't want me to know," He chuckled. "I ended up borrowin' Trace after some feller came and accused us of bein' seen in Blackwater and I had to chase him down. I figured out he was your father after I brought Trace back and he said he was grateful because you would've killed him!"

"You did?" She asked, her brows rose. "That was the same day I sent him into town because I thought he was losin' it! You were there the whole time..."

"Yes ma'am. I found it kind of a coincidence that I kept seein' or hearin' about you. We found your 'wanted' poster when we were hidin' up in the mountains at Missus Adler's cabin when the O'Driscoll's took it over. I kept it so I could get a good look at ya as I've only heard about you," He blushed. "I remember sayin' to myself that you wouldn't need a gun to steal my heart."

She smiled up at him, watching his cheeks turn red as he was embarrassed to express his feelings, but she was grateful for it. "I remember bein' up in those mountains. Kieran was an unlucky bastard whom I came across when I was tryin' to get wind of Cornwall's train," She chuckled. "He had the map of the train's schedule and I really wanted it!"

"Really now? No wonder he's afraid of you."

"Yeah, well, I wasn't gonna kill him. I could tell by the look in his eyes that day that he didn't mean anybody no harm. I don't think he could kill anybody." She shrugged.

"I don't know about that. He saved my life back at your daddy's cabin that day we found you."

"Really?"

"Sure did. He probably didn't want to, though, but he did. Said he felt safer with a band of outlaws that didn't trust him than with Colm."

"Now that I can believe!" She giggled. "Funny how things worked out,"

"There's a reason for everything," He replied as he kissed her forehead again as she was moving enough so that their lips were touching.

"I believe that with everything I got in me," She whispered as she kissed him again. "What are we gonna do today?"

"I'm not sure. I know I need to go sniff around in Rhodes. Apparently, there's this big feud between two families with suspicions of gold, so of course, Dutch was all-in for that scheme."

She chuckled, "I'd say so. Sounds like a job for Hosea, though. He can talk a kid into handing him their bag of candy!" She giggled.

"I do believe you're right, Miss."

"I ain't choppin' vegetables for a livin'!" They heard a very angry Sadie yell, presumably at Mister Pearson.

"We better go get her before she kills him." Minnie mumbled, raising her torso to sit up, dangling her legs off of her cot.

"Yeah, after seeing her with you yesterday, I'm sure she's taken a couple of notes." Arthur grumbled as he too sat up, rubbing his face.

She chuckled, "I believe Missus Adler can handle her own. She don't need to be around me to prove that theory. Won't you go take her into town with you? You seem to be the only one she can trust around here." She suggested.

"Me? Take her into town?"

"Why yeah. I don't see no problem with it. It's just right up the road. What trouble can you get in to going just up the road?"

He chuckled, "Comin' from the same woman who almost killed a man in the Valentine saloon all because he made a remark towards you and Lenny when you were just goin' up the stairs!" He poked.

"Hey, he was a racist bastard. He deserved it!"

Arthur shook his head, hiding a sly smirk, "I got my hands full with you, Miss Barlow."

She turned around to face him, gripping the seam of his union suit, pulling him closer to her, "I don't wanna hear you whinin' when you know this is what you signed up for." She teased, standing on her toes to peck him on the lips.

"Show me the dotted line and I'll sign it again." He chuckled into the kiss.

"Shut up, you! Go break them up!" She laughed, playfully slapping his chest.

"Yes ma'am." He nodded as he kissed her one more time, slipping out the back of her tent to get to his own to get his hat, satchel, and a fresh shirt before marching over to Pearson's butcher table to prevent himself from being served for dinner.

"What is wrong with you two?" Arthur asked as they were now holding knives towards each other, looking like a pair of coyotes from a different pack about to fight over a carcass.

"I ain't chopping vegetables for a livin'!" Sadie yelled.

"Oh, I'm sorry madame, was there insufficient feathers in your pillow?" He mocked.

"Look, I ain't lazy, Mister Morgan!" She protested, ripping the dirty cloth from her shoulder as she was using it to wipe her hands. "I'll work, but not this!"

"Well ain't cookin' work?" Arthur asked, not realizing he was being a bit harsh with his familiar sarcasm. He knew that if he had talked to Minnie that way, his cheek would have been tingling from a slap. She shoved Pearson out of her way as she now turned her back to the men, Arthur knowing he would have to go after her. He pats Pearson on the shoulder as he propped himself up on the table, prepared to listen to whatever story she was about to tell.

"My husband and I, we shared the work, all of it. I was out in the fields. I can hunt, carry a knife or use a gun. But I tell you, you keep me here, I'll skin this fat old coot and serve him for dinner!" She warned.

"Watch your damn mouth you crazy goddamn fishwife!" Pearson hissed, pointing his finger at her. She balled her fists as she lunged at him, Arthur stopping her abruptly by her hips.

"Enough!" He yelled, pushing her back. "Both of ya! Well come with me then. You wanna head out there? Run with the men? So be it. But we do more than just huntin', we're hunted. And them things huntin' us well they got guns of their own." He warned.

"I ain't afraid of dyin'." Sadie replied, her hands on her hips.

'Goddamn, this is a spittin' image of Minnie,' He thought to himself. "Good. You need anything Mister Pearson? Maybe me and Missus Adler are gonna take a little ride."

"Yeah, sure," Pearson replied, getting a list of essentials and an envelope before handing it to Arthur, "Here's my list and can you post this letter for me while you're there?"

"Sure," Arthur nodded, putting the items in his satchel. "Come on, Princess," He said as he started to walk away, noticing that she wasn't yet following him. "Are you comin' with me then, woman?" He grumbled, irritated.

"So I've graduated from chopping vegetables to shopping?" She groaned.

"Shut your goddamn mouth." Arthur replied, looking over to see Minnie cleaning her repeater on a stump close to Trace. She smirked at his attitude towards Sadie as he really didn't want to babysit a depressed widow, but they both knew that he did have a caring heart and he remembered the remark Charles made about if it were Minnie, he would do anything, no questions asked.

"Don't give her too much trouble!" Minnie shouted as he tapped the harness leather over the horse's backs.

"I don't think I should be worried!" He replied. "Be back in an hour!"

"You cooled down then yet?" Arthur asked as they were a couple of hundred yards away from the camp, cantering the wagon down the narrow trail through the heavily-wooded area, keeping them well hidden at Clemons Point.

Sadie sighed, "I guess. And I ain't no scullion, and I sure as hell ain't takin' orders from that sweating halfwit!"

"Well, I guess we all gotta do our share, Princess." Arthur replied.

She chuckled at the nickname, "Where's that letter?"

"Oh, you're readin' his mail now?"

"Oh, robbin' and killin' is okay, but letter-reading's where we draw the line?" She questioned.

Arthur shrugged his shoulders and sighed, "Here."

She happily took the letter from his hand, opening up the thick paper to see that Mr. Pearson had tasteful penmanship. She cleared her throat: "Dear Aunt Cathy..."

"You are somethin' else." Arthur chuckled.

"I haven't heard from you in some time, so I prayed to the Lord above that your health has not deteriorated further - blah, blah, blah, it's boring. Oh! Wait a sec. Listen to this! Since we last corresponded, I have traveled widely, making no small name for myself. Before you ask, I am still yet to take a wife, but I can assure you it's not for the lack of suitors-"

"Ha!" Arthur laughed as well as Sadie.

"He ever actually even talked to a woman he ain't paid for?" Sadie asked.

He muffled a laugh, "Look, we're all hiding behind something." He chuckled.

"And what's this? Return to Tacitus Kilgore?"

"Oh, that? Now that's Dutch's idea. All mail to be sent to the same alias. Whenever we set up somewhere new, Strauss, he heads into town. Tells 'em to start expectin' mail from a Tacitus Kilgore, or whatever they changed it to," He explained, turning to her briefly as he had slowed the pair of horses as they now reached Rhodes. "Here, gimme that back. We got work to do."

"Okay, here we are," Arthur announced as he pulled the wagon to a halt next to the general store to make it easy for the lad to load up the items listed for Pearson.

"So? What's the plan? I shoot the shopkeeper while you-"

"No! Are you insane?" Arthur hissed as he took the revolver from her.

"Well, I thought we was outlaws?"

"Outlaws... Not idiots! We rob fools that rob other people. These people, they're just trying to get by! So you head on in there, and you buy us some food to eat. And no guns,"

"Are you sure?"

"This time. There'll be time for killing soon enough." Arthur assured her.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna go check the mail, nothing excitin'." He grumbled as he turned on his heel to make his way towards the post office.

───※ ·❆· ※───

"Looks like Missus Adler has taken notes from Miss Barlow." He mumbled to himself as he noted her change of clothes from a casual dress to trousers and a button-up.

He walked up to her, watching her take charge, maybe just a bit too much as the poor young boy she was dictating looked as if he were about to wet himself. "I've birthed more foals with more strength than you! Hell, my sister's newborn had more strength than you and he came out bright blue!" He heard her say.

"I'm trying." The young boy pleaded.

"Try harder." She snarled, her hands on her hip.

The young man panted as he wiped his hands on his apron, stepping up on the porch of the store to retrieve the list Sadie had handed him prior. "I think this is everything," He breathed, wiping light beads of sweat from his forehead. The young worker wasn't much to complain, but crates full of potatoes were heavy!

"Thanks... Here, take this for yourself, okay?" Sadie said, tossing him a coin.

"Thanks," He said, his voice bare, acknowledging no more than her presence.

"Well, give it back then, Jesus," Sadie rolled her eyes. "I didn't ask for his goddamn help."

"Why don't you drive?" Arthur asked as he made his way back up onto the bench seat of the wagon, wanting to sit back and take in the scenery for once.

"Okay."

"Come on, lady, get a move on!" He teased.

"I like Sadie, not lady." She addressed.

"I know," Arthur grumbled. "So, you get everything?"

"I think so." She grinned, proud of herself as she tapped the harness leather over the horse's backs, sending the wagon on its way out of Rhodes.

"And some... New clothes I see?"

"Don't start... I can wear what I damn well want!" Sadie grumbled. "Like I told you, my husband and I shared all the work."

"I wasn't some little wife with a flower in her hair baking cherry pies all day." She explained.

"I don't doubt that. You sure look the part now," Arthur said. "Won't be long before you're smoking cigars and playin' the harmonica." He chuckled.

"I'll have you know I used to love playing the harmonica before, well, my house and everything I owned got burned to the ground." She frowned.

"I know... I'm real sorry. About what you... you know. Maybe I'll keep my eye out for another one." He said.

"I don't want no pity," She said. "Me and Minnie got to talk when we were headin' back from that bounty. She told me to not be afraid to portray who I really wanted to be. She said she thinks she can see me doin' more than choppin' vegetables and standin' guard all day."

"Did she now?" Arthur said.

"She did. We bumped heads at first because I thought she came into camp thinkin' she was hot shit, but she then informed me that she was hot shit," She giggled, following Arthur's chuckle. "She told me about her life before she joined us and her story inspired me to not sit around camp bein' depressed and readin' books."

"Well, Miss Barlow is the Jack of all Trades so to speak. She still hasn't earned her trust with Dutch quite yet. All because Micah is whisperin' in his ear." He grumbled.

"Why Micah?"

"I reckon he and Minnie used to run together at some point. She told me and Hosea that he had been rattin' her out to the Pinkertons after she robbed her supervisor once he set her up to be killed." He explained.

Sadie scoffed, "I can believe it. That greasy-haired piece of shit looks like a rat."

"I know, but we can't do anythin' unless Dutch says so. Who knows, maybe he's changed..." He trailed off, soon followed by a laugh between the two.

"Hey there!" A friendly-looking man said as he rode up next to the wagon.

"Hey." Arthur nodded.

"What are you folks up to?" The stranger asked.

"Just headin' home." Arthur said.

"You're in Lemoyne Raider country. You need to pay a toll to pass through here." He said sternly, spurring his horse to trot faster next to the wagon.

"No, I don't think so." Arthur shook his head.

"Those bastards are with the guy me and Minnie went after!" Sadie whispered to him.

"You don't think so? How about you pull over right now?" He warned.

"Pull over?" Arthur questioned, his palm resting on his revolver.

"That's what I said!" The Raider grit.

"Hey, how's about this?" Sadie intervened before taking her revolver, putting her arm behind Arthur to shoot the Raider who had been antagonizing Arthur before shooting the other that was on her side of the wagon. "Go! Go! Go!" She shouted as she realized she had missed her shot, both of them. 'Damn, I'm a little rusty!' She cursed to herself.

"Shit! Let's get the hell out of here, go!" Arthur demanded. "You drive and I'll hold them off!"

He shot the two antagonizers as Sadie pushed the horses harder to get over the bend. "What the hell was that?" Arthur breathed, loading his revolver with new bullets.

"They was gonna rob us!" Sadie said.

"A new pair of pants and you think you're Landon Ricketts?" Arthur grumbled before seeing a stranger standing in the middle of the road, forcing their horses to stop right in the Lemoyne Raiders' trap.

"Well, you wanted to see some action, lady, now you got your wish!" Arthur taunted as he jumped from the wagon after it came to a full stop, taking cover behind a large rock.

Abrupt gunfire, followed by silence and a half dozen fallen men later, they were finally out of the Lemoyne Raiders' "southern hospitality."

"See? I told you I could shoot a gun!" Sadie smiled as she made her way back to the wagon.

"I don't remember askin' you to prove it!" Arthur replied, too stepping up on the wagon. "Gimme those reins."

"Why?" She asked.

"Because you've caused enough trouble already," He replied. "I don't think it's a good idea for you and Minnie goin' out on bounty hunts knowin' how you are now." He warned.

She scoffed, "Don't you worry about us, Mister Morgan. Don't be mad when we do a better job than you fools!" She teased.

"Now that I might have to ask you two to prove." He shook his head.

───※ ·❆· ※───

"You didn't get yourself killed then, Missus Adler!" Pearson said as they arrived back to camp, still out of breath from their adrenaline rush.

"Not quite." She giggled, jumping down from the wagon.

"Well, I'd like to say I missed your refined conversations, but I'd be lying." Pearson said.

"I... I enjoyed myself out there."

"Yes, we err... Missus Adler did okay." Arthur intervened.

"At shopping?" Pearson questioned.

"Yes, at shopping."

"Thank you, Mister Morgan." Sadie nodded.

"Don't mention it. I would ride with you again, Missus Adler if you will ride with me?"

"Maybe," She smirked. "If you prove you can handle yourself," She teased.

"Well, they say I lack finesse, but I ain't afraid of gun smoke." He assured her.

"Thank you, Mister Morgan. I think we have it from here." Pearson said as they now finished carrying the valuables to his table.

He nodded, "Not a problem. Good day." He made his way towards Minnie's tent to see her, but to find that she wasn't there, but was at the small campfire not too far from where the wagon was parked, hearing the whole conversation.

"Miss Barlow," Arthur nodded as he now had a cup of coffee in a tin, taking a seat next to her. He could tell by the look on her face that she was not amused. "What's wrong?"

"Don't ya mean to call me 'Missus Adler'?" She said, raising her brow.

He smirked, knowing where the conversation was going as Hell hath no fury like a jealous woman. "I'm not sure I follow..."

She rolled her eyes, "Maybe you can follow Missus Adler around."

"Minnie, you told me to take her into town!" He said in a harsh whisper, not wanting to trigger an argument.

"Yeah, but it looks like you two have immaculate chemistry..."

He sighed, "I like her, but I'm not sweet on her nor do I want to be sweet on her like I do you," He assured. "All we did was go to town. She got the supplies from Pearson's list while I took Pearson's letter to the post office. I came back and she bought new clothes and was dicatin' the poor feller who was loading the wagon. We were headin' back when we got set up to be robbed. That's it." He explained truthfully.

"Whatever you say." She frowned, doubtful.

He furrowed his brow, "Y-You don't believe me?"

"I didn't say that, Arthur. I-I don't know. It's stupid of me, I suppose." She sighed.

"What's stupid?"

"Bein' jealous..."

"It's foolish, yes, but there's no reason to be." He explained, wondering if she has had a partner in the past be unfaithful to her.

"Really?"

"Yes," Arthur nodded. "I can't lie to ya nor will I."

"I just don't like competition."

He smirked, "Darlin', there ain't no competition when it comes to you."

#arthurmorgan #arthur morgan #minniebarlow #reddeadredemption2 #rdr2 #rdr2fanfiction

2 notes · View notes