CHAPTER 2 - Neogations

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My initial thoughts had been right. It was Dutch van der Linde, who now sat besides me by the fireplace. I was wrapped up in a blanket that smelled like mouse piss and tried to warm my fingers that had turned grey from the freezing cold.

My eyes were fixed on them, I watched how they bended slightly, each move shooting little sparks of blazing pain up my hands. My little finger of the right hand was darker than the rest, I feared that it was beyond saving. It would probably fall off in the next days. A shiver of disgust ran though my body. Still, watching my dying hands was better than talking to Dutch. He had other plans thought.

„So, an O'Driscoll girl. (Y/n) (L/n).", he stated plainly. There was something in his voice that hinted at something more sinister behind his calm attire.

So he did recognize me. I bit my lip. „Ain't an O'Driscoll anymore, not since three years or so."

He squinted his eyes and observed me. „You surely understand that that is very hard to believe. Why did you lie to Arthur and Javier about your name?"

„I'm a wanted woman, Dutch. For all I knew, they could have been bounty hunters, tryin' to cash in on me."

He leaned back and rubbed his chin, humming in agreement. „Yes, I've seen the posters."

„Well, in that case you know that I'm alone. They weren't looking for an O'Driscoll gang member. Just good ol' me."

It was unnerving to watch him quietly stare at me. Both of us knew that he was my only chance of survival. I'd say he had me by my balls, if I had any.

„I wouldn't have saved John if you were my enemy, would I?", I started again. „Could've put a bullet straight through his pretty skull or let the wolves finish the job." I paused for a moment, trying to read his face. But it was giving nothing away.

„Let me stay with you, Dutch. I can see how bad your situation is. You can't tell me there ain't somethin' going on with you folk hidin' up here." I hesitated for a moment, pondering if I should sweet talk him, but then I decided to be brutally honest. „John won't be able to hunt or fight for a good while. You're a bunch of lousy, starvin' outlaws, and I ain't no better. But I can handle a gun and you will at least need a few good hunters up here."

„I just don't want that gun of yours pointed at me, Miss (L/n).", Dutch replied coldly. Then a smirk replaced the frown on his lips, eerily quick. „If you ain't loyal to Colm anymore, I'm sure you can help us out with this little...situation. There's a camp of your fellow O'Driscolls set up pretty close from here. We're planning on takin' a hit on them. And as you said, I need all the guns I can get, so you wouldn't mind lending a hand, surely?" His eyes were now fixed on mine, like a predator that watched its fatally injured prey, just before finally taking it out.

That's a test. „I'm a woman of my word. I will help if you help me.", I replied flatly.

„In that case, you can set up your things in the cabin the men sleep in. It's the small one left from this one."

„Thanks.", I mumbled and tightened the blanket around my shoulders before I stood up. I needed some time away from him to sort my thoughts.

The snow had stopped falling, but the air was still freezing. Pushing my hands deeper in my pockets, I watched the clouds my breath formed as I trudged through the deep snow.

I was exhausted by the conversation and glad that it was finally over. My throat burned like hell and my head was spinning. Discussing with Dutch van der Linde felt like fencing next to a fire pit. One wrong move and he would thrust you into the abyss.

I had barely talked to him when I was with Colm, but as the leaders regard for me grew, he had taken me with him to a few encounters between the two rivals. I remembered that I had been impressed by Dutchs eloquence back then, and it seemed that it had only improved over the years. Although, I would have never expected to be his opponent in one of these verbal duels.

I observed a few horses tied to a rather unsteady looking hitching post on my way. Their coats were covered in snow and from time to time, one of them shook its head and some of it fell of. They remembered me that I needed to get a new horse as soon as possible. Getting a good one was hard, finding my own grey Arabian mare had felt like winning the lottery. She had been expensive as hell, but over the three years I had her, I never regretted it.

Our last journey together began with a hasty departure from Strawberry when I realized that there was a group of lawmen in town, asking around for my location. I had been hiding in the small town after I had been involved in a shooting. I had hoped that it would take longer for them to find me, though.

The camp I had set up after a day of riding had been left abandoned, along with my weapons aside from the Cattleman and most of my other belongings when a group of very suspicious looking riders crept to close. They had chased me relentlessly, and I had pushed my mare to go faster until she almost collapsed from exhaustion. I knew that I needed to keep riding, but she needed rest.

That was when I had made the decision to ride into the Grizzlies. Still afraid of my pursuers, I had made a fatal mistake. The paths had been to slippery and narrow to ride fast, but I had forced my exhausted mare to gallop along them anyways. The snow had been treacherous, it had hidden a hole that her foot got caught in. There was no way I could have saved here. I really hoped I would never have to use my revolver in such a way again.

Carefully, I pushed the door to the hopefully right cabin open and stepped inside. It was empty and I was thankful for that. I wasn't really up to another conversation.

While I settled down and leaned against the wooden wall, I examined the room. Old planks formed a roof above me, dust had settled in thick layers on the remaining furniture, a chair and a little cupboard. Blankets and bedrolls were spread on the ground, the scarce sleeping accommodations of the men that I would share the cabin with.

I was a little worried about them. Male outlaws were rarely the type of person you'd call „pleasant company". Back at the O'Driscoll-gang, I had gotten along with nobody in the beginning. It took a lot of threats, clenched teeth, dead enemies and successful missions to make them respect me. To make them fear me. It would be the same with these men, I was sure of that, and I wasn't eager to encounter them.

As if to spite my thoughts, the door was pushed open. Heavy footsteps along with a gust of icy wind broke the calm atmosphere. The glimpse blue coat was vaguely familiar and Arthur Morgans voice too. „You're still alive, I see." He sounded much more unsympathetic than earlier. I pondered how much Dutch had told him about me.

I pushed my hat up so it wasn't hiding my face anymore and nodded. „Looks like it." We stared at each other for a moment, unsure about how to continue.

„So, Dutch wants you to stick around?", he asked finally, a grin frown etched into his features .

„Trust me, Mister Morgan, I would prefer to fend for myself.", I muttered.

„I'm ain't so sure if trustin' an O'Driscoll is a good idea.", he replied sharply.

I watched how he settled down on a small bench on the other side of the tiny room and took out a revolver. He pulled out some gun oil and started cleaning the weapon, ignoring my gaze on him.

„You know, you're quite lucky to be walkin' around like that. If I was Dutch, I would have tied you up somewhere.", he remarked without looking at me.

„How charming." I threw him a dirty look. „Guess I'm glad that you ain't the one in charge then."

I assumed that he was here to guard me. Maybe Dutch even asked him to do so. I would have to watch my step.

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