Chapter Text
Chapter 1:
September 1898
Arthur led his horse along the path leading back to camp and already he could hear the lively sounds of the gang partying and celebrating. With a deer stowed on the back of his horse, saddlebags full of money from a job he did with Javier, and debts he had collected for Leopold Strauss, it had been quite a productive couple of days for the outlaw. He was exhausted to say the least, but he was always up for a little drinking and partying. A smirk played on his lips as he heard the music and laughter. There was nothing more he loved than this gang and was loyal to the bone.
“Who goes there?” He hears Bill's familiar drawl call out to him as he leads the horse through the trail leading into camp.
“It’s Arthur, dumbass!” he yelled back.
“Well, you’ve been gone awhile!”
“Well, I’m back now. What are we celebratin’?” Arthur asked in his usual gruff voice.
“John’s return. You best get on up there. And tell that boy Sean to get his ass over here,”
Arthur cursed under his breath as he hitched the horse. “John’s return. We rewardin’ deserters now?” Picking up the deer and slinging it over his shoulder, he made his way towards the chuck wagon watching the gang having a good time. As he drops the deer on the table for Pearson, he grabs a bottle of whiskey from a crate and heads over to Hosea in the middle of camp. He spots John sitting with Abigail and shakes his head, grumbling again.
Arthur was sore with John for leaving the gang for a full year, not to mention abandoning Abigail and his own son, and now he was being welcomed back like it was nothing. As if it wasn’t a full year that he had left them.
“Really, now? Celebratin’ the return of the prodigal son, I see.” He said as he approached Hosea, not even trying to mask the contempt in his tone. Pulling the cork with his teeth from the bottle, he spits it out and takes a large swig of the amber liquid, a few drops dribbling down his chin.
“Arthur! You’re back. Have a drink,” Hosea said. “We’re just glad that John came back.”
“Anybody else wouldn't have been welcomed like this,” he grumbled, motioning towards the camp with the bottle in his hand.
“Well, he spoke to Dutch and I. He knows he did wrong,” Hosea argued as Arthur took a seat next to the old man, leaning back against the table to rest his elbows. He wanted to argue but just didn't have the energy. For now, he was going to enjoy himself.
“You got on okay? No issues?” Hosea asked, smoking his pipe.
“Nah, not more than usual. Brought a deer for Pearson,” he responded as he took another sip from the bottle in his hand. His eyes scanned the camp taking in the scene and enjoying the mood. Despite his feelings about John returning to the gang, he was in a good mood and he wasn't going to let Marston sour it.
It was one of the typical camp parties the gang had. Javier was playing his guitar while some of the members sang along and some of the girls danced.
That's when his eyes fell on her. Rebecca, the new girl. She was dancing with Jack, holding both of his little hands and giggling with him. She was giving Abigail a little break and offered to entertain him for a bit, and hopefully tire him out, while she spent some time with John.
Arthur found her quite captivating. From the moment Hosea had brought her to the gang five months ago, she had caught his eye, although he had never made it known to her. A girl like her was much too sweet for an outlaw like him. Hell, she was much too sweet for the gang and he was surprised she had lasted this long.
Her dark, brown hair was loosely braided down her back, and loose strands of hair framed her face. Arthur couldn't keep his eyes off her. The way her skirt and hips swayed as she moved to the music, the sound of her laugh and the way her eyes lit up when she smiled. He found it all mesmerizing and he hated himself for even thinking of her at all.
There was a hint of resemblance to Mary, although she was much more lively and not so judgmental. Her gaze softer, with a light in her eyes, despite her situation. Mary had a tendency to look at him with pity, like some wounded puppy that made him hate himself. She had a sweet, kind nature as well, much like Eliza did when he first met her.
He knew it was wrong, but there were times he found himself watching her from afar, sinful thoughts popping into his head. He felt like a degenerate anytime he did and he’d quickly shake the thoughts. The girl was easily nine or ten years younger than him! He liked her. He knew he did, but a relationship was the last thing he wanted, on top of the fact she was much too young. He had too much going on with the gang and Rebecca was a distraction at best. A relationship would just add to his troubles.
“How’s she doin’? Getting along okay?” Arthur asked Hosea inconspicuously.
“She’s getting along okay. She doesn't cry as much anymore. Ain’t afraid of work, that’s for sure, and she’s been earning her keep. She’s already patched up a few of the boys.”
Rebecca knew her way around herbs and their healing benefits, much like her mother who taught her everything. The gang had begun to use her for any little injury or illness or if they simply needed herbal tonics. Like their personal witch doctor.
“How’d you know her again?”
“I never told you? I knew her mama, a medicine woman out in Armadillo. I’d often get tonics and herbs from her. Good woman, who helped the townsfolk out there for less than the doctor. Until the Del Lobo gang came and killed her and Rebecca’s brothers. Becca here was the only survivor. I rode out there one day to get more tonics and found the place burnt down and Becca hiding in the cellar. I just couldn’t leave her.”
“Hmm. Bad business,” Arthur simply commented, feeling a wave of sympathy wash over him for the girl. “She ain’t got no one else? Father? Husband?”
“She’s never been married and has never mentioned any other family.”
“Good night, Jack. Sweet dreams,” he heard Rebecca say to the young boy as Abigail ushered him towards their tent. Rebecca walked over to where Hosea and Arthur were with a wide smile on her pretty face. He was in awe of how resilient she was despite losing her family so brutally not so long ago.
“Hey, Arthur. Good to see you back,” she said with a smile on her lips that made Arthur’s heart flutter.
“Hey, Ms. Martin. You doin’ okay?” He asked standing up to offer her the seat.
“Yeah, doin’ fine. Jack tired me out a little. Ya’ll can really party,” she said with a chuckle, motioning to the camp as she took the seat he offered.
“We sure can,” Arthur chuckled.
Rebecca turned to Hosea, fanning herself with her hand as the night was a bit warm, even for September.
“Care to dance, Mr. Matthews?” she asked. She had a fondness for the older gentleman, like she would for a father or grandfather, and was grateful to him for saving her life. Out of everyone in the gang, he was the only one she would bring coffee to in the mornings as she had a deep respect for him. For that, Arthur was drawn to her more as he also had a deep respect for the man who practically raised him.
“I ain’t a young man anymore. I probably couldn’t keep up. But Arthur here is strong as a bull, even though he may not be graceful on his feet. Arthur, why don’t you dance with Ms. Martin?”
Arthur rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Oh, I ain’t much of a dancer, but… sure, I’ll dance with you, Ms. Martin.”
“You sure? You don’t have to.”
“Sure, I’d be honored to dance with you,” he said, offering her his hand before leading her closer to where the other couples danced. As they began to sway to a polka style song playing on Dutch’s phonograph, he couldn’t help notice how small she actually was compared to him, causing him to smile down at her.
“You ain’t a bad dancer, Arthur. Who’da thought?” Rebecca teased him with a playful smile.
“I try, Ms. Martin,” he chuckled as he twirled her.
“Oh! I can see that. Not bad,” she giggled.
His fingers flexed along the fabric of her dress as he held her waist. Part of him wanted to press her to him, but he knew it wouldn’t be appropriate. He was an outlaw, but still had respect for the fairer sex. He swayed her to the music, until the song ended a moment too soon leaving Arthur a bit disappointed.
“Thank you, Arthur.”
“You’re quite welcome, Ms. Martin,”
“Just Rebecca. Or Becca, if you like,” she reminded him.
“Alright… Becca.”
He watched her walk away to where the other girls were, before heading off to drink with the men and play some poker. He couldn't get this girl out of his head and he found himself glancing at her throughout the night.
She’s just another girl, Morgan. Don’t get hung up on her, he told himself and pushed her out of his mind.