Birds of a Feather

Grimshaw

Susan stomped around the outside of the Shady Belle house, ready to tear those useless girls a new one. What was the point of having three healthy young women as her help if all they did was sit and drink or lay around and read all day?

There was a commotion in front of the house, where she found the girls surrounding Arthur and his horse. Likely trying to flutter their eyelashes and convince him to take them into town again so they could avoid more work.

She marched over with irritation. "What is going on over here, Mr. Morgan?"

He turned and in his arms he held a sleeping, dark-haired woman. For a moment, she thought it was that Mary Gillis he'd been attached to years ago. But a second look had her realizing it wasn't anyone she recognized.

She snapped, "You brought an outsider into our camp?"

Arthur was soaked in sweat from riding and riding hard. "You gotta help her, Miss Grimshaw."

She asked with steel in her voice, "Who is this and why should I?"

"Her name's Charlotte. She's a friend."

Friend? Susan's gaze narrowed on the unconscious woman. Their friends were supposed to be exclusive to the people in this gang. "What's the meaning of bringing her here?"

"She's sick."

"That ain't our concern. We got enough shit to deal with right now. We only just finished cleaning up after them O'Driscolls attacked us. We don't got the supplies to spare on her, let alone food enough for another mouth."

"She won't be here long." His face held doubt. "I hope."

"Get her out of here before Dutch sees her."

Mary-Beth piped up, "Miss Grimshaw, Dutch ain't here."

Of course she knew that and it pissed her off that damn girl had revealed it. Hosea and Dutch had left yesterday afternoon, apparently scouting out that bank job in Saint Denis. She remembered it distinctly because as they'd rode off, she'd heard them arguing about whether or not they should do something to that Bronte feller.

"I don't want this outsider in camp," she said stubbornly.

"Susan," Arthur said, a hard look in his eye. "I ain't rode half the day for you to say no."

Susan tried to stare him down. Maybe a few weeks ago she coulda stood her ground better, but what he'd done for her recently was still fresh in her mind. He'd helped her get her Tilly back and that was something she still felt grateful to him for.

"Alright, alright." She was too soft-hearted for her own good. "Put her upstairs, in your room. I'll do my best for her, but you gotta square it away with Dutch when he returns."

He nodded and moved past the girls and into the house. Susan followed, Mary-Beth and Tilly at her heels.

"What can we do to help, Miss Grimshaw?" asked Tilly.

Oh, now they were volunteering for work?

"Get some linen, a clean basin of water and whatever medical supplies we can spare. I gotta look her over before I decide what we'll need after that."

Tilly nodded and left. Mary-Beth took her place. "What should I do, Miss Grimshaw?"

"Get one of the fellers to tend to Arthur's horse."

Ever since that O'Driscoll boy got himself killed, no one wanted to step up and take on the job. Didn't know 'til he was gone how useful he'd been. Now it was just another chore Susan had to find someone to cover.

Arthur laid his charge down gently on his cot, like she was a newborn fawn. He turned to Susan. "What now?"

"Now," She moved around him. "I'll take it from here while you go get yourself cleaned up, Mr. Morgan."

He frowned. "But—"

"I don't need all your hovering. Do as I say."

He didn't like her bossing him around, but she knew he'd listen after asking for her help.

As she expected, he nodded obligingly. "Fine."

"You can come back up when the mud's not caked on you thicker than horse shit."

Arthur cast one last brief look at Charlotte before leaving. As soon as she heard his footsteps treading down the stairs, Susan strode over to the cot and looked down at her newest patient.

She clutched the woman's chin, sharply moving it from one side to the other, getting a good look at her. The woman's forehead wrinkled at the disturbance, but she didn't wake.

Young, but older than all the girls here, except Susan herself. No scars, pockmarks or scabs. Her skin was flushed red from the fever, but there was no sign of sun damage. Next, she turned over Charlotte's hands and the skin wasn't hard or cracked. Susan didn't know where Arthur had found her, but it wasn't with the same kinds of people as them. She shook her head. Arthur always did like 'em soft.

"What you doing, Miss Grimshaw?"

Susan straightened and faced Tilly coming in with the supplies she'd asked for. Instead of answering, she ordered, "Put those things on the table and fetch me a chair."

Arthur knew better than this. For now, she'd take care of the unconscious woman, until Dutch said otherwise. His word was law and she wouldn't be labeled no damn traitor.