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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Jenny awoke to the sound of Jack trying and failing to whisper the morning after watching Dutch kill Bronte.
As discussed, she'd slept in John's room that night, lying next to Abigail in bed. Abigail obviously didn't hold her like Arthur usually did, but Jenny could still feel the heat of her body beneath the sheets, and it made her feel a bit safer than she would have felt sleeping alone.
She didn't mind Jack either. He tried his best to make his little voice speak in a whisper, but he wasn't quite able to control his volume yet, especially when Abigail mentioned breakfast.
"I'm hungry, Momma!" Jack complained at full volume, grunting and tapping his toe as his mother pulled his shirt over his head.
"We'll get breakfast in a minute, Jack," Abigail whispered to him. "Keep your voice down. Aunt Jenny and your Pa are trying to sleep. They was out late last night, and they're real tired."
"Why is Aunt Jenny here?" Jack whispered loudly. "Doesn't she stay with Uncle Arthur?"
"Not anymore," Abigail answered simply. "She's gonna be stayin' with us for a little while. It ain't safe for her to sleep outside alone anymore."
"Why not?" he asked innocently, looking at his mother with his big, dark eyes.
John's eyes.
Abigail sighed and finished buttoning his shirt for him. "I'll tell you someday when you're older. You're too young to understand it now."
When they'd arrived home the previous night, John had taken Abigail aside and told her all about Micah and Jenny, and how Arthur fit into the picture as well. Sympathizing with Jenny on account of having had menfolk troubles of her own in the past, Abigail had agreed to let Jenny stay in their room for the time being, but only if Jenny promised not to let Jack see her painted or covered in blood, and if she kept any scalps she might take far away from the boy as well. They seemed reasonable requests, so Jenny had drawn herself a bath and scrubbed every ounce of war paint and blood off her body before crawling in bed next to Abigail.
Judging by the sun, it was already midmorning. Thankfully, a cool breeze from the lake still whistled through the open windows of the little bedroom, cooling it down enough that she wasn't uncomfortable. She should be up by now, ready to begin her work for the day, but she still felt exhausted deep down in her bones. Last night had been emotionally draining as well as physically.
She couldn't get the image of Dutch holding a struggling Bronte's head underwater out of her brain. Her mind simply could not forget the sight of his blood boiling up from under the bayou's murky water as an alligator devoured him. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw it. She remembered the way Dutch's face had looked. She'd never seen him that angry before, and it made her wonder what exactly he might do to her if she didn't fall in line.
Hopefully the bank robbery would be a success today, and Dutch would be appeased for a while. Thanks to Mac, she knew Dutch would go completely off the rails before long, but she was under the impression that it wouldn't happen for another month or so. Not until September, and right now it was only the middle of August. Hopefully they'd have more time for peace and a bit of a chance to lick their wounds before all hell broke loose.
