Wild West, Bounty Hunting and Arthur Morgan.

The Family Ties Of The Gang.

One thing Arthur had always said to himself, members of the gang and the man himself, Dutch, was that nothing meant more to him than the gang. He would fight and die for it if he had to, but lately, he questioned himself. Dutch seemed different, he noticed Micah the little rat was spending much more time in Dutch's tent, whispering in his ear.

Elizabeth and he started to talk a bit more since the whole attack in her sleep situation. She had said sorry four more times since then, he had already forgiven her for it. For the moment, Arthur needed to work with one of the two families in a long feud, the Grays. He, Dutch and Bill had all been appointed Deputies by the drunk sheriff, Leigh Gray. The man sat around drinking moonshine for the most part of the day, but being a deputy gave the gang some leeway in Rhodes.

He had to find the secret of the family, whilst Hosea worked with the Braithwaites. He had his work cut out for him, but hopefully helping one of the family members, Beau Gray deliver a love letter to one of the daughters of the Braitwaite's would get him some answers.

Elizabeth had settled in even more with the gang, she started to get along with some of them. Pearson seemed to want her help with dinner every day, which she didn't mind doing. She was helping Tilly with some laundry when the young girl finally spoke for what must have been the first time since Elizabeth arrived at the camp.

"Is it true you're that famous bounty hunter?" she asked as she scrubbed a dress, looking up at Elizabeth from her bucket.

Elizabeth stared at her, stopping her own washing before nodding. "Yes, I am. The best in the business." Tilly seemed fascinated, she smiled at her answer. "My turn for a question, why are you part of this gang? You're still a teenager."

Tilly sat back on her knees, wiping her wet hands on her dress. "I was part of another group before meeting Dutch. The foreman brothers." She passed as she gulped back the horrid memories. "The leader's brother tried to make... advancements on me. I slit his throat," she said as she mimicked a knife going over her neck. "I returned home after being kidnapped at twelve, but my mama had died. I was homeless. Dutch saved me when I was getting attacked by a shopkeeper for stealing bread. He took me in, taught me how to read and write."

Elizabeth nodded slowly, she had heard similar stories from the other gang members. Dutch had saved them all one way or another. The man seemed so high strung, but maybe he did have a good heart in an outlaws body. "Well, I can see why you would stay," she replied. Tilly nodded with a sweet smile before getting back to her washing.

Now curious, Elizabeth wanted to know more stories. She found Mary-Beth reading on a rock behind a tree. "Hello, Mary," she said, startling the woman.

"Oh, Miss Sanchez. You scared me," she says with a hand over her heart. Elizabeth sits down on the grass in front of her.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to ask you a question, if you're okay with that?" Mary-Beth closed her book, resting it on her lap.

"Of course," she replies with a small smile. Elizabeth noticed Mary was one of the calmest gang members, she could rob someone blind with her charm alone.

"Why did you join this gang?" Mary grinned at the question, she looked down at the floor before answering.

"I was pickpocketing some rich folk out West. They were drunk, high or too busy in conversation to notice me." She stopped to shake her head, the mistake she made was a silly one. "I bumped into a gentleman, and two pocket watches fell out of my pocket. They soon figured out they're were stolen and chased me."

"I can guess they were angry?" Elizabeth chuckled. Mary giggled, holding her fingers to her lips in a ladylike fashion, she agreed.

"Yes, very. I was able to escape, but running in a dress and heels is not easy. I bumped into Arthur and Hosea, they both got me away on their horses. Dutch found out about my thieving abilities and offered me a place here." Elizabeth nodded, she looked down at the book on her lap. It was a soppy romance novel.