Violet Skies (Book III)

My Turn To Protect

Warning (Do I just need to say smut... and leave it at that? :) enjoy!)

     When they reached camp, the once cozy little tent circle was a scatter of motion. Things being packed, their world shutting down. It was like watching a folding flower during the fall. Kallie would have taken it in a little closer if her wrist hadn't hurt so badly.

     John had stopped just behind Arthur, hopping from his horse over to his brother's side, where Dutch had nearly walked to himself. The younger cowboys' eyes were troubled. He could see the pain on Kallie's face as he approached. "Giver er to me." His voice crackled up at Arthur, long arms reaching for the dwarfed girl snuggled within his coat.

     For just a moment Arthur hesitated. His eyes strange and wild like handing the girl off to anyone at this point was just a forbidden thing to do. "Come on Arthur, I ain't gon hurt er." John soothed his worried brother waving his hands again to lower her down. Finally he relented, pulling his coat from around the girl and carefully cradling her down into John's arms. "Easy." He breathed as he took her from him. There was a quick nod from Marston, and he circled by Dutch trotting her across camp to Charles.

     Dutch had lit a cigar once again, the powerful need for the smoke consuming his raw nerve endings. He stood near Arthur as he shuffled down. " She alright?" He questioned looking after John as he spoke towards the thick shoulders of Charles.

     Arthur nodded, grabbing his own smoke and training his eyes on the Native, who now cautiously wrapped the girl's wrists in a thick strip of cloth. "Yeah. Pinkertons. This ain't over Dutch. But I guess you already knew that." He took a quick glance around the folding campsite and met Dutch's eyes. The older man nodded. The sadness weighted behind the usual calm demeanor.

     "I've already had Charles and Bill searching for us a new place. We head for Clemens Point at sunrise. That should buy us some time." Arthur bobbed a nod forward dipping his hat as if it were weighted full of lead. His whole body felt heavy. Life itself felt heavy. And now with someone stealing half his heart away, it felt all the more impossible.

     He stared down at his nicked boots, blue thoughtful eyes just tracing the scars that zigged through the worn leather. Fingertips fed the end of the smoke to his mouth, and he let go of a long tired swill of gray that blossomed out around his face like a shadowy curtain. For a moment, he wished he could hide behind that swirling fog forever.

     "It won't last. Our time Dutch, I've said it before. Our time is neigh near done. We need to leave this place. Not just Valentine, but here altogether. We need to find somewhere safe for the girls, for this gang, before there's no girls or gang to come back too." The pain in Arthur's voice was thick with grief. Leaving this life, the only life he ever knew, was the hardest thing he would ever have to do. But losing Kallie because of his foolishness, well, that was something no measure of loyalty or freedom was worth. There simply was no life without her.

     Dutch was nodding his head though. Without Micha hissing in his ear, and the anchor that Emma had become to him by his side now, his thoughts were much clearer. Things had changed. Oh sure, he still wanted money, still wanted to break his people free of the damnation the world sought to hold them under. But he saw with different eyes. He saw through John's eyes. Through Arthur's eyes. Through every set of eyes that surrounded him right now that were filled with fear and looked to him for hope.

     "This ain't over Son. We will not go down this way." And when he met Arthur's gaze the outlaw could see a look in his capturing stare he had not seen in a long time. Maybe since he was a kid. It was not faith. It was hope. He patted Arthur on the shoulder and motioned him to get some rest with Kallie. Morning would come too soon and there was much to do.