When Hearts collide (An Arthur Morgan Rdr2 fanfiction)

Chapter 2: Bunkmate

I'd never been good, at being a people pleaser. Hell, I did my utmost to avoid people, unless absolutely necessary. For some reason, people always seemed to find fault with me. Whether I was just minding my own business, or not. Trouble always came knocking on my door. And right now, trouble was definitely knocking. No sooner had I ridden into camp, than Dutch came storming over to me. Judging by his red faced expression, the man was not too happy, with me. And it didn't take long, for me to figure out the reason why. Hitched to their respective posts, were John and Bill's horses. They'd gotten back before me, and my guess was, had gone straight to Dutch, telling him I'd botched the mission, we'd originally had gone to take care of.

    "We need to have a little chat, son," Dutch says, standing before me now. His voice indicating my previous thought, was correct.
    "Now's really not the time, Dutch," I say.
    "Now's most certainly, the time. John and Bill told me, what you did," he says.
    "You'd have done the same, if you'd have been there," I say.
    "You disobeyed me," he says.
    "For good reason," I say.
    "Oh really, and what would that reason be?" He says.
     "There was a woman, sir. A woman, who needed rescuin'," Kieran interjects.
     "See for yourself," I say, leaning back slightly, and looking down at the unconscious woman, I was barely managing to hold upright in the saddle, before me.

Walking closer, Dutch gets a good look at her.
   "Colm. That bastard. He did this?" He asks.
   "Unfortunately. Look, I know I didn't stick with the original plan. But, when I heard her screams, I couldn't just ignore that. I chose to do the right thing, and save a life," I say.
Dutch stands there, quietly for a moment, a sad look on his face. If I had to guess, he was remembering his most painful of memories. When he meets my gaze again, all trace of anger, had left him.
   "You did the right thing, son. And you're right. I'd have done the same thing," he says.
    "Colm can wait. Right now, we need to attend to her. Is Reverend Swanson sober enough to take a look at her, or is he passed out drunk?" I ask.

At that moment, Ms. Grimshaw who had been nearby listening, came strutting over.
   "He's drunk, as usual. But, I don't see how that matters. What matters, is where we are gonna put her. I've no space available, for another person y'all have a knack of rescuin'," she says, sourly.
    "Well, I wasn't gonna leave her to die, Ms. Grimshaw. You know our code," I say.
    "I know the code, yes. But, we just don't have the room, right now. It was hard enough findin' a spot for Mrs. Adler. And trust me, I had to fight dirty, to get it," she said.
    "Well, what do you suggest we do, Susan? Colm could find and kill her. And you know how I feel bout the man and his dark habits," Dutch says.

I had no idea what possessed me, to say what I said next.
   "I'll make room in my tent, for her. So, problem solved," I say.
   "But, that goes against our rules," Ms. Grimshaw says.
    "I'm willing, to make an acception. If he's willin' to offer a spot to our new friend here, I don't see a problem. Besides, it's only right, that he take responsibility of caring for her, till she's able to get back on her feet," Dutch says.
With a look of defeat, Susan agrees to make room in my tent.
   "I'll help. I may be an old man, but, I can still do a younger man's work," Hosea says, offering his assistance.
    "Thank you, Hosea," I say, tipping my hat to him.
    "Well, we best get a move on. Get this done, while Mr. Morgan is in town, tending to his friend there," Ms. Grimshaw says.
   
As they walked away, I turned my attention back to Dutch.
   "So, guess I'm goin' to town," I say.
   "Afraid so, seein' as Reverend Swanson is visitin' drunken dreamland," Dutch says.
   "As is normal, with him," I say, rolling my eyes.
   "He'll come around. At least, one can certainly hope," Dutch says.
   "Yes, one certainly can. Well, I best not delay, any longer. I'm gonna head to town," I say.
   "Alright, son. Be safe out there. We still don't know, what all is out there," Dutch says.
   "I'll take care. You know I will," I say, as I turn my horse around, and head back through the trees.

The stench of sheep dung, filled my nostrils upon entering the town of Valentine. It was especially strong, this evening, making my stomach turn. But, I tried not to dwell on it. Right now, I needed to focus on getting the young woman in the saddle before me, seen by a doctor. Yet, as I hitched my horse up at the sheriff's office next door, taking her into my arms, the doctor, who was standing out front, took one look at me, and immediately rushed back inside his office, shutting the door behind him, flipping his open sign to closed, and pulling the shade down.
   "You gotta be kiddin' me. Really, Partner?" I say in irritation, as I approach the door, taking the woman's full weight, on one arm, as I raised the other, and knocked on it. No response.
    "Look, I ain't here to cause trouble. I've got a patient, here. A woman, who really needs your help," I say.

When still no response comes, I pound on the door harder.
   "I can hear you. You're standin' behind the door. Please, we need some help, here," I say.
The commotion of my shouting and door pounding, drew the sheriff out and over, to investigate.
   "There a problem, Mister?" He asks.
   "Oh yeah, there's a damn problem. This blasted idiot, is refusin' to open up and help a patient," I say.
The sheriff steps closer, shaking his head.
   "Let me handle this, partner," he says.
He knocks on the door. He utters a few words, and suddenly, the door opens.
    "What's this I hear, you're refusin' to help a patient needin' seen?" The sheriff asks.
    "No disrespect, sheriff. But, this man is a troublemaker. He beat up big Tommy at the bar, few weeks back," he says.
    "Well, that big oaf probably deserved it, stickin' his nose where it didn't belong," the sheriff says.
     "Got that right," I say.
    "Now, are you gonna help this feller and his woman out, or am I gonna have to force you to?" The sheriff asks the doctor.

My woman?! I think, as I ponder the sheriff's words. Could that man be any further from the truth? Needless to say, that got the doctor into motion.
   "Bring her inside. Take her to the cot in the back," he says to me.
    "Thank you. And same to you, sheriff. You've done me a service. If ever there's a time where you need anythin', feel free to call on me," I say.
    "I just might take you up on that. We could use a good bounty hunter," he says.
    "I'll see what I can do, for sure," I say, as I follow the doctor inside, and to the back room, laying the woman down on the cot.
   "Alright, I'll need your assistance, with this next part," the doctor says.
   "Okay, sure. What you need?" I ask.
   "I need you to help me get her outta them rags she's in, so I can get her cleaned up, to get a better check on her. See what we're dealing with," he says, making my heart leap into my throat.