Archive of Our Own ^beta

   Evening had settled over Clemens Point, while Arthur sat by his tent, smoking and staring out at the lake in silence. He was thinking about Dutch’s plan, and the more he thought about it, the more insane it sounded.
   Taking in another mouth to feed? The daughter of some feller who supposedly raised him? Arthur didn’t quite understand the whole story. He shook his head and flicked the cigarette butt into the grass. It all seemed highly uncertain—like all of Dutch’s plans, as a matter of fact.
   And Molly? Yes, indeed. What about Molly, who’s pacing around camp, snapping at everyone around her, threatening to raise hell if Dutch even dared bring that “hussy” into their camp?
   Arthur shared Molly’s sentiment, but there was nothing to be done. When Dutch made up his mind about something, that was the end of it. And as for Molly—well, Arthur knew how Dutch would handle it. He’d seen it before. Susan Grimshaw, poor Annabelle—God rest her soul—and now Molly. One by one, Dutch cast them aside like an old rag the moment the first fine lines around the eyes started showing. Even young Mary-Beth had caught his eye once, but that letter about the old man’s inheritance had made him change course.
   Inheritance. Arthur cursed under his breath, still sitting by his tent. When Dutch smelled money, he was like a bloodhound—nothing could steer him off the trail. Not even this minor inconvenience: having to win over the girl before he could get his hands on the cash.
   And so, Arthur found himself returning to the same thought that had been gnawing at him all day—just how desperate was Dutch if he was willing to bring a stranger into camp, all for a payday they weren’t even sure existed?
   Arthur heard a commotion behind him, and turned to see the cause of it. Dutch had ridden into camp—with the girl, no doubt. Everyone was rushing over to meet them, Molly at the very front.
   He rose slowly from his bench, deliberately stalling to buy himself a few extra moments. He wasn’t in a hurry to meet the person who, judging by the way things were going, was about to turn camp upside down.
   Arthur reached the hitching posts, and as the crowd had started to part, he spotted Dutch dismounting, his face darkened. So the plan fell through? And then, behind Dutch, sliding down off a horse of her own, the girl appeared.
   Arthur wasn’t sure what to expect—some Molly lookalike, perhaps—but what he was seeing before him wasn’t that. This woman was a bit younger than Molly, but her face was hardened and serious as if she’d already endured her fair share of trouble. Her cheeks were reddened, scattered with freckles, and a fresh cut ran across her forehead. Still, it did nothing to take away from her evident beauty. Her features were strikingly harmonious—full lips, a straight nose, and almond-shaped eyes that had a greenish-brown hue.
   Arthur caught himself staring like a damn fool and quickly shut his mouth. He kept studying her while the others were preoccupied with greetings and introductions. She wore a white shirt and a pair of worn-out jeans (another surprise), and Arthur’s thoughts immediately drifted to how the fabric clung to her thighs. His cock gave an involuntary twitch.
   He forced himself to not let his gaze wander south and looked up instead. A green bandana was tied around her neck, and an old, battered hat sat on her head. Strands of messy hair slipped free from the careless braid draped over her shoulder. On top of it all, she had two revolvers holstered at her hips.
   The woman was dressed like a goddamn cowboy.
   Arthur barely had time to take in the sight of her before Dutch was already approaching to introduce the lady.
   “Arthur, this here is my friend and ward, Miss Sadie Adler.” Arthur gave a curt nod, but Miss Sadie didn’t return the gesture.
   “I ain’t your ward, Dutch. We already settled that.” Her voice was rough and raspy—not at all in line with someone her size—but it made Arthur’s stomach do a somersault. What the hell’s gotten into him?
   Dutch was uncharacteristically polite and patient, but Arthur knew him well enough to tell something was brewing beneath the seemingly composed exterior.
   “As long as you’re here, Miss, you’re under my protection. You can be sure of that.”
   Sadie didn’t dignify that with a response, remaining morose. Arthur wondered what the hell had happened to her to put her in such a mood, and he caught himself imagining all the ways he could comfort her. In his tent. His mouth went dry, and he swallowed hard.
   “Alright then, Miss,” Dutch said, “You’ve been through a lot. Best if you got some rest now. The girls’ll take care of you.”
   He signalled Miss Grimshaw and the others to usher Sadie, who agreed to be led away with resignation.
   Dutch threw his arm around Arthur’s shoulders, steering him away from camp toward the lake. Night had fully settled by now, and only faint moonlight danced across the gentle ripples on the otherwise still water.
   Before they could get far, Molly stepped into their way. “Dutch, I need to talk to you—”
   “Not now,” Dutch cut her off sternly, making her freeze for a moment before she stormed off toward their shared tent in frustration.
   Arthur wondered how much longer they’d be sharing it. But he couldn’t concern himself with Molly’s predicament just now. He had more pressing matters.
   They stopped at the edge of the dark water.
   “So,” Arthur muttered under his breath, wasting no time. “Where’s the money?”
   “Easy, Arthur, my son.” Dutch glanced around. The distant sounds of camp carried to them on the breeze. “The money is… somewhere out there. I just have to dig it out.”
   Arthur jerked his head back toward camp. “What the hell happened to that girl? She looks meaner than a cornered dog.”
   “Her father died,” Dutch hung his head. “Left behind a mountain of debt. Collectors came by every damn day, ready to take the house, but Sadie fought ‘em off with a gun. When the old man finally kicked it, they came twenty strong. She couldn’t hold ‘em off alone. Lucky I came along just then. We barely made it out. They took everything—house, land, the whole damn place.”
   “Yeah, yeah, but what about the inheritance?” Arthur pressed impatiently.
   “It‘s there. And it’s stashed somewhere. Buried, most likely. I know it as sure as I know the sun’ll rise tomorrow.”
   “Did you ask her?”
   “Of course I did,” Dutch snapped. “She insists the old man spent every last cent trying to pay off his debts, but I don’t buy it. I knew the man, Arthur, he raised me. He was a damn miser. Never trusted banks. Always had stashes tucked away.” He paused, his expression somber. “Shame he went out like that.”
   Arthur wasn’t interested in Dutch’s theatrics. This was exactly what he’d predicted—no money, and now Dutch had saddled them with another mouth to feed. He shook his head.
   “Christ, Dutch! So what now?”
   “Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan.” Dutch assured him. Arthur barely resisted the urge to shudder at those words.
   “And that is…?”
   “Miss Sadie knows more than she’s letting on. Mr. Adler, the feller I knew, would never have left his daughters out in the cold.”
   Arthur narrowed his eyes. “Daughters?”
   “Miss Sadie has a younger sister—married, living up in Annesburg.” Dutch waved a hand impatiently. “Point is, if Sadie did get her hands on that money, she’d pay off the debts and reclaim her land. She’s the rightful heir—no male kin to contest it.”
   Arthur raised a brow. “And where exactly do you fit into all this?”
   A devilish smile spread across Dutch’s face. “I plan to marry her.”
   If lightning had struck right between them, Arthur would’ve been less shocked. A flood of questions swarmed his mind, making his head spin.
   First off, Dutch was too damn old for the girl. Second, Dutch—married? The man couldn’t settle down with a woman if someone held a gun to his head. Third, he wasn’t in love with her—how the hell did he plan to fake that? It wouldn’t be fair to her. And fourth… what about Molly?
   Arthur blurted out the least important question first: “What about Molly?”
   Dutch’s expression darkened. “What about her?” He played dumb.
   Arthur let out a long sigh and shook his head. “Forget it,” he muttered dryly.
   “Leave Molly to me. And please, Arthur, be a gentleman, won’t you?” Arthur’s stomach twisted into a knot at his words, but Dutch continued, oblivious. “Treat the girl with respect. We need to be gentle with her if I plan to court her. I remember her when she was a young girl, but she barely remembers me. I saw the way you were looking at her, like she’s done you some offense. I know you’re wary of newcomers, but for the sake of our plan, try to be civilized.”
   Arthur silently thanked whatever higher power there was for his naturally sullen expression. The thick beard he hadn’t trimmed in weeks managed to conceal the blush rising to his face.
   Dutch, typically perceptive, couldn’t have been further from the truth. Arthur wasn’t distrustful of the girl. Hell, he felt a dark sort of jealousy coil inside him when Dutch declared his intent to “woo” her. But it wasn’t something he could allow himself to acknowledge.
   Instead, he decided to take Dutch’s advice and act “indifferent.” As if.
   ”And Arthur, you’re the only person I’m tellin’ this. Not a word to anyone, got it?”
   Arthur gave him a quick nod and the two men made their way back to camp.

***

   After dinner, the camp had gone quiet. Only Sean and Uncle could still be heard, swapping wild stories by the fire, drinking, singing, and letting out the occasional whoop. Eventually, they turned in for the night.
   Arthur had purposely kept to himself while eating, in order to have his supper by his tent rather than gawk at the new girl and let his thoughts wander carelessly. Still, he could hear the others chatting around the fire, and he couldn’t help but notice Dutch hadn’t made a single move toward his supposed goal. If anything, he’d barely spoken to Miss Sadie at all.
   Against his better judgment, Arthur felt relieved.
   Playing it smart, he thought, correctly guessing Dutch’s intentions. Gotta get rid of Molly first.
   The camp finally fell into complete silence, save for the crackling of the dying fire, the rhythmic hum of crickets, and the steady snores of the gang.
   Arthur was settling for the night himself when he heard a rustle in the dark, followed by the unmistakable clink of the donation box lid.
   That damned Reverend Swanson was at it again, “borrowing” camp funds for the booze. Arthur sighed and pushed himself up, about to give him an earful—
   But when he got close, he was shocked to find Sadie Adler, who was carefully, quietly closing the tin box, intending to slip away unspotted.
   Instead of confronting her, Arthur’s first instinct was to hide behind the nearest tree. And he did—but then, anger took hold of him.
   He’d had a bad feeling about this woman from the start. Not only was she no rich girl, but now she was stealing from the poor gang like some gutter-rat drifter.
   He made the decision, stepping out from behind the tree, closing the distance between them. He grabbed her wrist from behind, the one which was clutching a stack of bills. He gritted in a low, menacing voice:
   “Alright now, princess—put that money back where you found it, real slow.”
   She didn’t say a word, merely shivered slightly. Arthur had no doubt he’d scared the hell out of her.
   However, her tremor caused an unexpected reaction down in his crotch, and he felt an unpleasant tightening in his trousers. He caught a faint scent of her hair and the cold sweat, and it sent yet another surge of excitement right between his legs.
   Like he’d been burned, he flipped her around so they were face to face. His grip on her wrist was still firm.
   “Let me go!” she hissed through a whisper.
   He recognized fear in her widened eyes, her breath coming in uneven bursts. His fingers loosened just slightly, and she immediately wrenched herself free, stepping back. The momentary loss of closeness bothered him and he wished that the space between them was gone again.
   “Thieves don’t last long in this camp, just so you know,” Arthur warned in a low and dangerous voice.
   “I… I ain’t no thief!” she stammered a lousy excuse.
   “Oh, come on.” He barked. “I caught you red-handed, woman! What the hell’s a few measly dollars worth to you?”
   “Alright, fine—I took the money. But I was gonna put it back!” she said desperately.
   Arthur scoffed. “That so? A honest thief, huh?”
   “No, you don’t understand… My sister—”
   That got his attention. “Go on,” he prompted.
   “She—she lives in Annesburg. Her husband’s a gambler… and a mean son of a bitch. He makes her… work the streets to pay off his debts, and… and—”
   Her voice trailed off. She started sobbing, and Arthur immediately felt a tinge of sympathy in his gut.
   She steadied herself before continuing. “I—I was gonna go to the post office in the morning, send her some. Pa never knew. She begged me not to tell him—it would’ve killed him. He sent her money when he could, but now he’s gone…”
   Her voice broke completely, and she collapsed into his chest. Instinctively, he wrapped his strong arms around her. The feeling was… peculiar. Warm. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Not even with Mary. And it scared the hell out of him.
   They stood like that until her breath steadied and when she finally looked up at him, the fear in her eyes was gone. In its place—if Arthur wasn’t imagining things—there was desire.
   The erection that had been throbbing painfully in his trousers intensified threefold. She had to feel it. They both breathed unevenly, flushed. For a moment, he felt his tongue tied up in his mouth and he was unable to utter a single word. Then he remembered Dutch’s plans for her and he shoved her back firmly enough to put space between them.
   “If what you said is true, then you’ve justified yourself,” he said, forcing his voice to be even. “Just… next time, don’t go sneakin’ around like a damn thief. There’s honest work to be done in this camp.”
   “Oh, I’ll do whatever needs doin’!” she exclaimed in relief. “I grew up helpin’ Pa on the farm—I can handle myself.”
   Arthur gave her a satisfied nod, unable to conceal a smirk on his lips, appreciating her childlike resolve.
   “Good. Get some rest, then. The girls’ll find you somethin’ to do in the mornin’.”
   Wasting no time, she turned on her heel, muttering a quiet “good night” before vanishing into the shadows behind the tents.
   Arthur stayed where he was, staring after her in the quiet of the night, his broad chest rising and falling in quiet excitement. The thought of the day ahead made him feel a mix of wary anticipation and an aching hope.