Wanted (Jack Kelly x Reader)

.8.

--ʏ/ɴ--

𝙱𝚈 𝚃𝙷𝙴 time I awoke properly, on what I would later find out was two days after the incident, the sun had dipped low on the horizon. I sat up with a gasp, the dull pain shooting through my side as a reminder of just why I was out. Memories of my injury and the subsequent hours flitted through my mind like motes of dust in a sunbeam, there until you blink and then gone just like that. 

I had flashes-- Jack, the captain. Outside, near a tree. Then inside a wagon, the captain giving me something strong to dull the pain and keep me under while he worked. Emma was there too-- how many now knew my secret? Phases of sleep, unease, sprinkled in with someone forcing broth down my throat multiple times. I sighed. This wasn't how I'd wanted it to come out. Well, I hadn't wanted it to come out at'all, but... maybe it wouldn't all be a bad thing. I could have a little more freedom to wash and change in private, instead of hurried, quick movements. And as long as I kept getting paid I'd no issue with continuing to work. 

Once I was in California, I could disappear again, and no one would be the wiser. The thought shot a pang of sadness through me, almost as potent as the wound in my side. I was surprised at the feeling, until I realized that despite the secrecy, I'd found almost a little family here-- one comprised of the captain and his daughter, a couple of the other men who were trustworthy, and even Kelly. 

Something I hadn't had since my parents died. It was funny, the things you missed-- the things you didn't realize you missed, and the things you didn't realize were there until they weren't. 

I pressed a hand lightly to my side, struggling to my feet. Nobody came, even when I knocked over a small tin, sending supplies spilling over the barrel top they rested on. I hurriedly repacked, stacking the items back in and glancing down at my clothing. 

I was wearing one of Emma's dresses-- the pretty yellow one I'd only see her wear once, near the beginning of the trip. It might be too small for her, now that I'd come to think it, and I entertained a brief fantasy of being able to wear it a few times. There was something I'd missed about dresses, I reflected as I took the few steps towards the back of the wagon. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but the way the fabric floated around my legs, the slightly cooler fabric of the blouse... I felt pretty, even though I remained as unwashed as ever. My hair'd grown out some, too, near touching my shoulders. I brushed it back, moving out of the opening of the wagon carefully. 

My feet hit the ground, and my knees flexed to absorb impact away from my side. The world outside the wagon was dark, and it took me a second to get my bearings after the dim light of the lamp inside. The wagons had been formed into a circle per usual for the night, but it was much larger than ever it had been before--  a double ring, with the captain's in the middle. Which made sense, given I was in there. I'd bet the other few that were in our small grouping had people inside as well. Coming around the side of the wagon, I finally set eyes on what I'd been sensing. 

There was an enormous bonfire blazing in the center of the ring, and even from this distance I could smell the crisp wood smoke, hear the faint strains of fiddle music, and see the figures whirling around in pairs and groups. A dance. They were having a dance, without me. 

From the looks of it, our wagon train had crossed paths with another, and from the looks of it there were plenty of women travelling in their group. A sudden, reckless feeling gripped me, and I took a step towards the festivities. Nobody would know who I was, not dressed like this in the low light. They'd all just assume I was from the other travelers, and I'd be free for just one night... 

I took another step in the direction of the fire, and another, and continued to take just one more step until I'd reached the outer circle. By fate or by design, my eyes were drawn to Jack Kelly, sitting on a barrel with his hat pushed back and top few shirt buttons undone, cup in hand. He was the picture of rakishness and the most carefree I'd seen him as he laughed.

My heart did a strange little flip. Oh no, oh no, no, no. I was not falling for Kelly. The man was practically the plague of my existence right now. Well, he did come second to both the gunshot wound and my money-grabbing uncle, as well as his cronies, but my point still stood. Jack Kelly was trouble, and I was not about to get dragged into his when I had enough of my own. 

As I watched, a pretty young girl in a bright dress sauntered up and blocked my view of him. From the way she moved, I could already tell the sort of conversation that was going on. When he stood up and offered her his hand, it only confirmed my suspicions. Well that was fine. She was welcome to him. I wasn't here for him anyway-- he was the most likely to recognize me, knowing what he did, and that was not what I was here for. 

A throat cleared behind me; a soft sound that caused me to turn faster than my side would have appreciated. 

"Miss?" The speaker was a young man, near my own age or perhaps slightly older. 

I'd allowed myself a moment of pleasure at being addressed as such again, before replying with a smile. "Yes?" 

"Would you care to dance?" He asked, one arm making a gesture towards the pairs of couples spinning behind us. 

I glanced him up and down, my smile becoming slightly more genuine. He wasn't polished, but he seemed sincere, and he wasn't bad to look at either. Not quite as good as... "I'd love to," I replied, stamping down the traitorous thought.

The man grinned slightly and swept me into the dance. The steps were simple, and the music was fast, and the dirt beneath my shoes was uneven and clumped. 

And yet it was better than any ball I'd been to in Virginia, better by far. Even with the stitches in my side and the roughness of the surroundings... even with the fact that Jack was in the arms of some other girl nearby. I let myself get lost in the music, thoughts slipping away as the dance switched to a faster beat, couples spinning and switching, skirts swirling through the dirt in stark contrast to the dark ground. My original boy was gone, the dance spinning us girls back and forth, to a new partner each set. 

I let out a laugh as my subsequent partner spun me away exuberantly, stepping neatly into the arms of whoever was next. But his arms felt different than the others, and my breath caught as I looked up at him. Jack Kelly was standing there, and I felt his intake of breath sharpen to match my own. He'd recognized me, and I didn't know how to feel. We moved through the steps of the dance habitually, but my eyes never left his, and his never veered from mine. 

It was all too confusing, the way he looked at me and the way his face looked in the flickering light of the fire. 

"Y/N," He breathed, and I didn't know what he was going to say. I didn't know what I wanted him to say, but then the moment had vanished as quick as it came, and I was handed off as dictated by the dance, replaced by the girl he'd been with earlier. I tried not to look back at him, but my head turned as I was spun, and my eyes rested again upon him. He'd been watching me, but as my eyes sought his they dropped to the girl he was with, and I was left to be spun the other direction. 

I didn't look back again, not until the dance was finished, and when I did he was gone.