When Hearts collide (An Arthur Morgan Rdr2 fanfiction)

Chapter 11: The storm begins

There was an air of tension, surrounding us, as we rode back to camp. The type of tension, that showed the danger we were all in. I noticed, that Peyton kept checking behind us, making sure we weren't being watched or followed. I understood, her need to do so. The Pinkertons, had shown their faces, and were too close to camp, for comfort. It didn't help matters, that we rode in utter silence. Not the whole way, mind you. But, most of it. Jack had started asking questions, wondering who those men were, even though he and I hadn't heard any of the conversation, seeing as we'd both been well hidden. I'd told him, not to worry about it. I'd even given him a candy bar, to ensure he kept silent, about our surprise visitors, today. The last thing I needed, that we needed, was for him to go blabbing to his parents, about what had occured. Luckily, the candy bar had worked well, in terms of bribing him to keep quiet. Like all kids, Jack had a sweet tooth. It was rare, for him to get sweet treats.

Once we'd hitched our horses, and Jack was back in the safety of his mom, Peyton and I make our way over, to Dutch's tent. The sooner this was addressed, the better. We needed to get out of here, before we were found. And if I knew the Pinkertons like I thought I did, it wouldn't take them long, to stumble upon our camp, and bring real trouble, knocking on all our doors. And that was something, I'd rather not have to deal with.

Having reached the entrance to his tent, we see that he is inside, reading a book.
"We need to have a lil, chat. Ms. O'shea, you mind? Won't take long. But, this is best kept between Dutch, Peyton, and I," I say.
She nods, and makes her leave. Dutch closes his book, and looks up at us, expectantly.
"What's the matter, son? You both look like you've seen a ghost, or worse," Dutch says.
"Or worse, is more like. We got a real problem," I reply, every muscle, every hair, trembling.
"What kind of problem?" He asks.
"A big problem. While Arthur and I were out fishing with Jack, per Abigail's request, we ran into some men. Men who're looking for you," Peyton says.
"What'd they look like?" Dutch asks, training his attention on Peyton.
"They was Pinkerton agents, Dutch," I interject.
"Milton and Ross," Peyton says next.
"Were you followed back here?" He asks.
"Nope. We were real careful, comin' back. Peyton here, kept her eyes peeled," I say.
"Well, that is rather troubling. What did they say to you?" Dutch asks.

Peyton fills him in, telling him all I had tried to hear. None of which was good. They'd killed Mac. The man, not having uttered a single word. Loyal to the end. Hearing that, hurt something fierce. It was bad enough, we'd lost Jenny and Davey. Now Mac, too?
"So, what we gonna do, Dutch?" I ask.
"We ain't gonna do, nothin'," he says.
"Excuse me, what?" Peyton asks.
"They haven't found us, yet. We're still safe, for now," he says.
"Are you insane? We need to move. Someone, somewhere, is bound to tell them, where we are. We need to leave, before, that happens," Peyton snaps.
"Do not, raise your voice, at me. You asked me what we're doin' and I answered. Enough said," Dutch states.

Anger fills me, all the way to the core, as I stand with Peyton.
"Naw, Partner. There's still plenty, to say. By not movin', you're riskin' all our necks. Necks that will soon be wearin' a necklace of rope. I ain't dyin' that way, and neither should the rest of us," I snarl, glaring at Dutch.
"You dare, go against me?" He asks.
"Only because you're bein' stupid," I say.
Dutch is on his feet, instantly. He grabs hold of my shirt, and shoves me backward, hard enough, to send me sailing through the entrance. I land a few feet away, the breath knocked clean out of me. However, I can still hear what's going on.
"You don't touch him. Don't ever touch him!" Peyton bellows, before I hear the sound of a hard blow.
"Why you little...," Dutch says, and I can hear scuffling.

I push myself to my feet, aiming to stop the fight. However, Hosea beats me to it.
"Stop, stop! This isn't how we do things, Dutch," he says.
"She started it, Hosea. She struck me first," Dutch says.
"That doesn't mean, you strike back. This ain't you," Hosea says.
"I'm gettin' real tired, of you butting into things, Hosea," Dutch says.
"I'm just tryin' to keep the calm, Dutch. That's all. Now, I think it best y'all stop fightin, and walk away, peaceful like," Hosea says.

Dutch glares at him a moment longer, before he moves away. But, not before he says one last thing to Peyton.
"Consider this, your first and only warnin'. Do not cross me, or my decisions, again. Or so help me, you'll be outta this gang, and on your own," he snarls, before turning and stalking off to lick his wounds.
"Ms. Sparks, are you alright?" Hosea asks.
"Yeah. I'm okay. Just busted my lip a bit, is all," she says.
"He hit you?" I ask, as I make my way over to them.
"Yeah. But, not as hard as I hit him. He'll have a shiner tomorrow, no doubt," she says.
A dark look must've come into my eyes. Because, suddenly, Hosea was reaching out his arm, to stop me.
"Leave it alone, Arthur. He ain't worth it," he says.
"Yeah, I know. He ain't worth shit," I say, as I get a closer look at Peyton's lip.
"My baby, got hurt," I say, noticing as Peyton blushes.

Hosea must've seen it to. Because suddenly, he looked as if he was pondering something.
"You alright, old man?" I ask.
"Come with me. Both of you. I've an idea," he says.
Peyton and I move to follow him, my arm resting protectively, across her shoulders. We walk a decent distance away from main camp, before Hosea finally turns to us.
"Listen, I was gonna put this in the box, so the camp could have it's share, of a job I did recently. But, I want y'all to take it. Take it, and get outta here, for a few days," Hosea says, handing over a rather large stack of bills.
"Hosea, we can't take this," I say, shocked.
"Yes you can. And you will. I won't take no, for an answer," Hosea says.
Hesitantly, I reach for the stack of bills, and I take it.
"Go to Strawberry. Rent yourselves a room, at the welcome center, there. Let things cool down a bit, between y'all and Dutch," he says.
"Strawberry? Last time we was there...," I begin, not wanting to think back to that time.
"We shot up, half the town, breaking Micah out of the jail, there. The stupid ass," Peyton finishes.
"Were your faces covered?" Hosea asks.
"Ours were. But, Micah's wasn't," I say.

Hosea thinks on it. And gives us a small smile.
"Y'all should be fine. It's been a bit, since then. And, I'm sure they have forgotten the whole thing, by now," Hosea says.
"Hope you're right. What you think, hon?" I ask Peyton, meeting her gaze.
"I think getting out of here, isn't such a bad idea. Besides, King Mighty, over there, isn't gonna like me any more than he does now, when he wakes up to that shiner I mentioned," she says.
"That settles it, then. You two, get outta here. Enjoy the time away. Oh, and don't do anythin', I wouldn't do," Hosea says, making both Peyton and I blush at what he was insinuating.
"Yeah, uh, thank you, Hosea," I say, placing the money in my satchel.
"It does my heart good, doin' somethin' worthwhile. Ah, young love. Powerful to those experiencin' it, and to those witnessin' it," he says.

He leaves us then. Leaves Peyton and I to stare awkwardly, at each other.
"Well, uh, shall we?" I say, every nerve, every inch of my being, experiencing a familiar tingling sensation.
"After you, Arthur," she says, and we both make our way over, to our horses, to take our leave.