Arthur Morgan x Reader

Twelve

"We've got a fair share of banks and saloons around here.", you explained over a map of the town. "But you won't get a whole lot out of it. Maybe a couple hundreds."

A snort escaped Dutch.

He sat across the small camp table, one arm rested on his leg while holding a cigar with the other hand.

"You think a couple hundreds aren't good?", he asked and blew a cloud of smoke into the night sky. "You must be a spoiled brat."

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips.

"I've been like you once. Not because it was a choice but because I had nothin' left to chose from. I know that cents can save a life for a day."

Dutch eyed your face.

"Then why are you complaining about hundreds?", he asked, eyes narrowed.

Chuckling, you leaned back and crossed your arms in front of your chest.

"Why fish for bass if you could have a shark?", you asked back. "This town doesn't look like much, but I'll tell ya, it's a gold mine. Quite literally."

Interested, he leaned closer.

"Tell me more.", he demanded with a greedy shimmer in his eyes.

But you destroyed his hopes quickly.

"The mine is off limits. Unless you're suicidal."

Arthur let out a low sound.

He wasn't sitting with you, but listened from afar, arms crossed and leaned against a tree.

The expression on his face was grim, he seemed to be lost in thought most of the time.

But you learned quickly that his attitude wasn't as grim as his thoughts. He just looked gloomy most of the time while putting on a light mood whenever someone came to talk to him.

He also seemed to be someone to put trust into. Most people from camp had greeted him like a long lost brother.

"I've come across a mine as we arrived.", Arthur said and fixed his hat with a snip against the brim. "Seemed like they are well armed."

You nodded.

"They farm gold and raw jewels.", you tapped a spot on the map to show where it was. "It used to be a holy place to the natives."

"I assume they didn't like the settlers taking it.", Arthur noted.

"Not at all. Bunch of workers died before the townspeople decided to guard it day and night. You won't get in without serious injuries. And if you should get in, you won't come out."

Dutch frowned.

"And how do you know?", he asked in a way that told that he was still considering to try.

A dark grin appeared on your face.

"Because people tried.", you said. "Lots of widows in town now."

Dutch sucked in a sharp breath.

"Leave it, Dutch.", Arthur insisted. "We've made our losses. No need to make more."

Dutch's eyes moved to him.

"Fine...", he mumbled, but it didn't sound convincing. "But if it ain't the mine nor the banks, what is it?"

"I'm glad you ask.", you turned the map to give him a good view of a few properties that also were located a bit further out of town. "Gold and jewels attract magpies. And rich people who want to become more rich."

You took a pen and circled all the houses that you knew would make good targets.

With a not so convinced look on his face, Dutch leaned over the map.

"And how do you know who's there?", he asked. "Could be fucking cotton farmers."

"Well...", you raised both hands to show him how indifferent you were about it. "I run a bar."

"Arthur told."

"He probably didn't tell you that all the rich come to me. I know that they have money and jewellery to waste."

Something lit up inside Dutch's eyes.

With a look on his face, that was something between mistrust and amusement, he looked up to lock eyes with you.

"Somethin' doesn't add up.", he said, his voice a silent threat. "If those are your customers, why do you sell them out? Could make you a lot of enemies."

You couldn't help but smile sarcastically.

"I have nothin' but enemies.", you replied in a calm, confident manner.

"Customers."

"Only a paying customer is a welcome one. Most of em' are greedy. They drink and fuck all night without paying the bill. They have dept with me."

"Ah.", Dutch grinned. "So leaving you and your little saloon alone isn't your only condition for this deal."

You nodded.

"I appreciate a man with brains. You're right, it's not all.", you leaned towards him, a broad grin on your face. "I'll tell you where to go and what to look for to make a lot. But I'd like you and your fellas to give me what I'm owed. Like a dept collector with benefits."

For a moment, Dutch locked eyes with you.

He didn't blink nor did his face show any kind of emotions.

All he did was stare.

Then, a long, deep breath left his nose.

He glanced at Arthur.

A smirk was tugging on his bearded face.

"I told ya, good people.", he said and showed his row of surprisingly bright, white teeth. "I dunno about you, Dutch, but a mole inside the hens nest is worth more than collecting some dept."

Dutch let out a humming sound.

"Yeah, but we'd loose business, Arthur.", he said and locked eyes with you again.

"The place of business changes, the people don't. All we do is rob them elsewhere."

"It's not robbing. We take some of their material burden, Arthur."

You couldn't help but chuckle.

"Either way, do we have a deal?", you offered him a hand. "It's me or no one."

Dutch took a deep breath of his cigar.

"I don't appreciate betrayal.", he said and took your hand to squeeze it harshly.

You didn't give him the satisfaction of flinching.

"Neither do I.", you gifted him a sweet smile. "Let's just be loyal till you and your fellas pack your backs. And after that, we ain't got no strings attached."

"Sounds fair. Pleased to make business with you."

"I knew it would be."