In 1887, Arthur Morgan is forced to break off an engagement with whom he thought was the love of his life, due to his loyalty to his gang and his outlawed way of life. He and his father's Dutch Van Der Linde, and Hosea Matthews; Along with the other...
Arthur and Hugh had finally made it to the halfway point, and the great thing about that is now they can take the train to Oregon. It's gonna be expensive as all hell but a lot more comfortable.
"The train station's up here," Arthur says as they trot down a dirt path, this is some town they don't know. Doesn't matter, they're here for the train. "You got the money? This is gonna be damn expensive." Hugh hops off Bourbon, handing the reigns to his horse to the station attendant so he can place his steed in the horse cab at the end of the train. "About three hundred bucks," Arthur says, he doesn't let the man take the reins, he brings Boadicea up himself. Putting her in a stall with a pat.
"That should cover it." Hugh sighed, wandering inside alongside Arthur as the approached the station attendant. "Two tickets to Oregon," Arthur asks the man, "If you wanna make it you best get on right now. Train's about to leave." Arthur hands the man the money and takes the tickets.
"When we get to Oregon we head straight to the mountain. Ask around. Maybe that photo will help us find out where they live." Hugh says as they board the train. It's not all that loaded. Still, though there's a good number of people on board. "How the hell are we getting back?" Arthur asked as they sat down in a seat, Hugh next to the window with Arthur on the outside. "We gather some money no big deal, if there's anything we know how to do it's get money."
And with a loud whistle from the front, they were off on what would surely be the longest train ride of their lives.
Hugh didn't care all that much, he's a fan of wagon and train rides. Watching the land roll by a window as it gently shakes you like a baby is one of his only comforts in this world.
Arthur pulled out his journal, something Hugh's always wanted to snatch and read in its entirety. But reading one passage felt invasive enough and that was nearly a month ago, right? Whatever he was writing, or drawing was taking a long while. Hugh knows Arthur likes to draw, and he's actually pretty good at it. Much better than Hugh has ever or will ever be he's sure of it.
Arthur's always been protective of his journal, especially his drawings. The only time anyone in the house ever saw one was when Arthur crumpled up a drawing and left it on the floor. It was somebody, there wasn't a head it was just a body. A man's body, could've been anyone really.
Took about forty minutes until Arthur was out like a light. People were staring a bit at the way he was leaning against Hugh as he slept but Hughie could give two shits what these people think of them.
Without anything to do himself Hugh had one of two options, try and get some sleep too. Or, see what Arthur's been drawing so intensely. He's dead asleep and the journal's in his lap open and upside down. Surely a peek wouldn't hurt? Right?
So somewhat deviously, Hughie picks up the leather-bound journal. He looks at the page and his eyes widen. It was him.
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