Traveler trilogy Book 2, updates every Friday!
Five years after killing Levi Cornwall, Arthur Morgan is happy. He has a wife who loves him, an honest job he enjoys, and two beautiful children named Sadie and Hiram. All of it is turned on its head, h...
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When Jenny awoke, she was somewhere soft and warm, and there was someone lying next to her close enough for her to hold in her arms. Someone to share her body heat with. Still half asleep, she thought it might have been Mac. Stretching out her arms, Jenny grabbed the man next to her, only to instantly retract her grasp when she heard him grunt in pain. Her eyes flew open suddenly. She knew that voice, and it was not Mac.
"Ouch," John Marston grunted, turning his head to look at her. "I liked you better when you weren't movin', Jenny." The half of his face that wasn't obscured by a large, bloody bandage managed a stiff, painful smile.
"What the hell happened to you, Marston?" she asked weakly, snuggling in towards his body heat in spite of herself.
"Wolves," he rasped painfully. "Without Arthur Morgan, I guess both of us would be dead right now. I heard you nearly froze to death."
She nodded and sat up to look at him. "They put us next to each other to help us stay warmer, didn't they?"
John said nothing, only smiled painfully again.
Jenny glanced around the room, taking in all the pairs of eyes staring at her. The closest ones belonged to Abigail, who placed a tin mug of hot water in Jenny's hands. "We don't have coffee," Abigail said sadly. "We don't have much these days, except for venison stew and each other."
"Mac?" Jenny asked as she swallowed her first sip of water. It may not have been coffee, but the warm liquid heated her to the core in a very pleasant way all the same.
"We still ain't seen him," Abigail said softly. "I know you two was close, and I bet he's just fine." But her voice was thick with doubt. "You should also know Davey died the night we found this place. Lenny and Javier gave him a proper burial in the churchyard nearby. He's at peace now, just like Karen."
Jenny swallowed another gulp of hot water. "I figured he wasn't long for this world when he took that Pinkerton bullet. He survived longer than I thought he would, truth be told. He was always a fighter, that Davey Callander." Even though she smiled slightly, tears gathered in her eyes all the same. She had not been as close to Davey as she had to Mac, not by a long shot, but she had considered him almost an older brother all the same.
Sitting up was tiresome, and as Jenny took the last swallow of liquid from her cup, she handed it to Abigail and settled back down next to John. He was warm and she was still very, very cold, and in spite of herself, she unconsciously snuggled up against the warmth of his body. "I'm sorry," she apologized, although even she didn't know whether she spoke to John or Abigail. She knew Abigail loved John, and even though he claimed not to, John loved Abigail too. It must be odd for both of them to have another woman so close to John.
"You can put your arms over me if you're careful," he offered. "It's mostly my left arm and leg that got hurt, besides my face. It'll help keep us warmer, and after all you been through, you could probably use a little human touch."
