NOTHING GOLD CAN STAY: RDR2

23. INTO THEIR VASTNESS

"I should not be withheld but that some day

Into their vastness I should steal away,

Fearless of ever finding open land,

Or highway where the slow wheel pours the sand."

- Robert Frost 

It had been over a week since I had fallen into Arthur's camp after escaping the clutches of the O'Driscoll's. I had spent almost all of it in bed, aside from the times that I had to be helped into the bushes to relieve myself. I had not managed to walk unsupported, although my leg had mostly healed at this point. My shoulder was getting better, although still had to be dressed and tended to every day by Reverend Swanson, whom I had discovered was dealing with an unfortunate addiction that rendered him almost utterly useless most days. 

Arthur had been a constant, everything I needed he had brought me. He had fed me stew and tonics without a single complaint. He'd insisted that I remain resting in his cot while he used his bedroll, which he had laid out on the floor just beside me. To keep a close watch, he had told me. He'd half carried me over to the horses to check on Aine, the boy who I had encountered first upon my arrival that night had been taking excellent care of her. Kieran, his name was, although a lot of the camp called him O'Driscoll. He had assured me that he was not in fact an O'Driscoll, and after watching how carefully he fed Aine and how she leaned so confidently into his touch, I couldn't not believe him.

On my first fully lucid day at camp Dutch had come to speak to me, Arthur had begrudgingly given up his chair so that Dutch could sit down but had refused to leave entirely.

"Tell me what happened." he had demanded.

"They took me from the hill. When I woke up, they had hung me in a cellar. I think the camp was by Bard's Crossing, but I can't be sure."

"What did they tell you?"

"That they had planned the whole thing, I don't think they wanted me, but they assumed you'd come looking anyway. They were going to sell you all off to the law." I explained, trying to remember exactly what had been said.

"What did you tell them?" he asked, with a steely look in his eyes. I tried not to scowl at the insinuation.

"Not a damn thing." I said, confidently. "That's why I'm in this sorry state."

"It was dangerous, coming back here. They could have followed you."

"Dutch." Arthur cut in, looking down at his mentor incredulously.

"I'm not wrong, Son."

"I didn't mean to. I wasn't really awake. Aine just remembered the way, I guess." I said, offering a lopsided shrug.

He had pursed his lips for a moment, taking in my battered appearance, my bandaged shoulders, my blackened eyes. I saw a flicker of sympathy in his eyes, if only a flicker. He reached out and carefully placed his hand on my better shoulder.

"We all appreciate your loyalty. You are of course welcome to stay here while you recover." he had said, before rising from the chair and walking back towards his tent.

I shared a look with Arthur, the both of us equally surprised by the gesture. I was under no illusions that Dutch still didn't trust me, and I would have been lying if I said that I trusted him. I supposed an acknowledgement of my candour was all I could hope for.