"How did you get on Herr Morgan?"
Mary-Beth overhears Strauss as she picks at her stew by the camp fire. She begins to listen intently as she has an uneasy feeling about what the two are speaking of.
"Fine, our accounts are up to date. Sad sacks the lot of em." Arthur says, closing the ledger. Mary-Beth's stomach sinks, Arthur confirming her assumptions.
Strauss' money lending business has always been something she despises, somehow it feels even more dishonest and cruel than straight robbing folk. It seems to her to be everything the gang is supposedly against, preying on the misfortunate. She often wonders why Dutch allows such businesses within his gang.
Arthur being Strauss' most reliable business partner is especially difficult to come to terms with.
But it's another one of those things that she can't change and it would only cause her more grief to worry about, so mostly, she'd ignored it.
"Good. Very good." Strauss says.
"My pleasure." Arthur begins to walk towards Pearson's wagon.
"Well if it's pleasure you're after, there is one other." Strauss follows Arthur. Mary-Beth can't help but strain her ears to listen as the two wander off, knowing she'll regret it.
"This farmer, preacher, feller who I met in Valentine, Mr Downes."
At that Mary-Beth's stomach sinks further still.
She remembers that name, that description.
A few weeks back she was in town with Uncle, Arthur, Tilly and Karen. She'd managed to sneak into a big, wealthy home, posing as a servant girl, and stole a fair bit of cash. She'd been walking back towards the main street when she'd passed him, he was standing behind a donation box, calling on people to donate.
Mary-Beth thought this was kind of unusual. The folk of Valentine were mostly poor and not exactly generous. It was no secret that there wouldn't be much, if anything, in that box. She'd felt the wad of cash in her hand and had the urge to donate. She took a few dollars and put it into the box.
Mr Downes thanked her profusely. She'd asked him if he got many donations and why he gave his time for the cause. He was a very kind man, she'd decided, after they talked some. She knew a few things from their conversation; he was a rancher, he was, admittedly, not doing too well financially and in his words, ought to be working for himself now, he had a wife and a son and he was also very very sick, which he hadn't told Mary-Beth but she had gathered from his painful sounding coughs.
Her heart ached for Mr Downes, especially as her own mother passed from typhoid when she was just a girl. She'd determinedly thrust the rest of the cash into his hand which she insisted he keep, not put in the donations box. He thanked her sadly, it was obvious it pained him to take the money and it was very possible he'd put the $20 in the box after she'd left.
Her breath catches in her throat when she hears his name now.
"The opinionated little do-gooder?" Arthur asks, apparently having run in to him himself, under what circumstances, Mary-Beth dreads to think of.
"Yeah I know the one, I certainly know the type."
"Thank you Herr Morgan."
"There's no need to thank me." Arthur bends down to scoop up a spoonful of stew. "Like you said, it's pleasure I'm after."
Mary-Beth cringes at this. Does he really mean it?
YOU ARE READING
𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐆 | Arthur x Mary-Beth
Fanfiction| 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐆𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠 | Mary-Beth has always needed a saviour, but Arthur has always been running from himself. When the two find each other inextricably linked after a fateful night, they struggle to navigate their new found connec...
