Dutch's Daughter [[RDR2 Arthur Morgan x OC]]

chapter 24; shady belle

The building must have been beautiful once upon a time though looking at it now, it's hard to imagine it was ever even a home. It's once white walls are caked in moss and broken glass litters the ground around it. It's a skeleton of a home. The abandoned building is still full of it's original furnishings, though they've been desecrated during the many years of mistreatment the house has endured. The holes where windows once stood have allowed harsh weather inside and many occupants have come and gone, leaving their own marks on the place.

For a gang of outlaws on the run, the territory looks like paradise. The surrounding outbuildings provide extra shelter and storage and several barricades from past gangs hiding out are still conveniently standing in the courtyard. Susan turned the place into a functional camp within an hour of landing there. The upstairs is set out for Dutch and Molly, with two extra rooms remaining, one for Charlotte and one for Arthur and John, should he need a night away from Abigail. The walls are full of holes so there isn't much privacy but the space works well enough for their purposes.

Charlotte throws out her bedroll on the floor next to a bookcase. There's a bed, but it didn't seem right to her to take it. She had to practically beg him but eventually she convinced Hosea that he should have it. "'Yer old bones shouldn't be sleeping on the ground." She told him. Besides, she couldn't complain being next to a still fully stocked bookshelf. Running her fingers along the books spines, she reads the titles, contemplating which one to read first when she hears Dutch's voice below her window.

"Arthur." He calls out, sending Charlotte's stomach twisting into knots. "Take a ride with me." Dutch's voice is deep and stern, not giving any clue as to what his intentions are. He turns towards the horses before he can see Arthur's reaction, knowing that his work horse will do as he's told.

"Sure." Arthur mutters, following after him to saddle up. Molly isn't far behind them, fingers twisting together anxiously.

"Dutch? Can I have a word with ye'?" Her Irish accent coats his name as it leaves her mouth.

"Not now." Dutch dismisses her and the anxiety on her face twists into frustration. Balling her fists at her side, she storms into the house, red curls bouncing behind her. The men's horses clop out of camp rhythmically and for a long moment, they're completely silent. Arthur starts to fear the worst - that this may be the trip he doesn't return from.

Dutch finally breaks the silence. "All I've got going on and she wants to talk." He scoffs. "I got far more important things to worry about right now than Molly O'Shea."

"Where we going?"

"To take a look at this Saint Denis I keep hearing about. Everything go okay back there with John?" Dutch takes the lead, talking over his shoulder.

"Few loose ends. Nothing major. But John... he's about as you'd expect him to be. He's taking this real hard."

"We'll get that boy back, whatever it takes." Dutch voices intensifies. "I need you to start asking around the city for Bronte. You and Charlotte both."

A lump forms in Arthur's throat, readying himself for what Dutch really brought him out here to say. "Course. What about the Pinkerton's?"

"I'm fairly sure nobody followed us. We moved out fast. We should be safe for a few days at least." He begins to slow the horses as the city comes into sight, veering off the road to the edge of the river bank before the bridge. "We need to get distance once this all done. After the mess with those families... losing Sean. I see things differently now. For a long time, I truly believe a paradise lay somewhere in the west for us but I just... don't know any more."

"We leaving the country now?" Arthur tightens the grip on the reigns in his hand.

"Maybe. I'm still thinking about it. Before anything, we need more money." The Count stirs nervously underneath him as underwater predators growl in the distance. "Arthur."