Traveler trilogy Book 2, updates every Friday!
Five years after killing Levi Cornwall, Arthur Morgan is happy. He has a wife who loves him, an honest job he enjoys, and two beautiful children named Sadie and Hiram. All of it is turned on its head, h...
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Francis hated lawmen nearly as much as Mac did these days.
The shock of being arrested and nearly hanged, along with the guilt and shame of being stripped naked and taunted in front of Jackson by the police made him sick to his stomach every time he thought of the event. It wasn't just the humiliation of it that bothered him, though. It was the fact that the police had done it to him in order to get to the person Francis loved most in the world.
Jackson had endured far too much on Francis' part already. This whole walkabout in the past was Francis' fault, and if he'd been just a little more careful, Jackson would still be safe in Big Valley right now instead of a man wanted for the murder of a police officer. Maybe they'd even be married by now and living in Jackson's cabin on the Double L if it hadn't been for Francis thinking it was wise to talk to Karen Jones.
In fact, Francis seemed to be spiraling a lot these days. It started with Blackwater and continued after finding out he wasn't entirely human. He still felt human, but clearly he was not. He'd been experimenting with the bizarre powers he now knew he had, but they seemed tied to his mood in some way. Now that he felt restless and anxious and fearful these days, as well as guilty and even slightly depressed, his powers seemed to have disappeared completely.
He hadn't been able to make an object freeze in time since the knife he'd stopped from stabbing Jackson in the foot, and he hadn't seen any visions since he'd been clobbered over the head in Valentine. He still got the occasional premonition, but it usually just felt like a strong hunch about how things might play out, rather than a concrete projection on his brain.
Even now, as he sat in Doyle's Tavern with Jackson and Mac, he couldn't even move his gin glass an inch, no matter how hard he tried. He knew he was capable, but for some reason, the power wouldn't come to him.
"When are we supposed to meet these friends of yours?" Jackson asked Mac tiredly, growing impatient with the waiting. They had been here since mid-morning, and it was now afternoon.
"They were supposed to be here at noon," Mac said stiffly. "And they ain't my friends. I hate them. The only reason I'm talkin' to them now is because they'll take Jenny prisoner if I don't."
"Don't take it personally," Jackson sighed. "Edgar Ross did the same thing to John Marston in 1911. It's almost like blackmail is his favorite way to accomplish things, and not following the letter of the law."
"He's such an asshole," Francis agreed, taking a sip of his gin. "You sure we can trust him to get these bounties removed from our heads?"
"Can't trust Pinkertons with nothin'," Mac said with a sigh. "But I don't see what other choice we got, to be honest with you. They know I'm alive, and if they wanted, they could hang me, and hang you folk as well for associating with me. If we cooperate with them, they might just leave us alone."
"I wish Arthur was here," Jackson sighed. "He knows these idiots much better than any of us."
"I'm the next best thing," said Mac. "You know full well why Arthur and Charles can't be here. As far as Milton and Ross are concerned, they're still runnin' with Dutch. But I know these assholes probably better than they do, and I really do think I can broker us a deal to get our crimes dismissed."
