Ghosts of the Past [ RDR2 - Arthur Morgan ]

Chapter 2 - Honest Robbery

Word count - 2714
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1899

Roughly twenty people were taking refuge on the cliff edge in the centre of the grassy plains known as the Heartlands. It stretched a great distance from the Dakota River all the way to the Lomoynes. 'Horseshoe Overlook' was the given name to the view point due to its unique crescent moon-like shape. It was an ideal place to lay low, due to the only feasible access to the cliff being through a thick tree line between the clearing and the road beyond.

The Van Der Linde gang found and claimed this place over a week ago. It had easy access to the local village of Valentine and plenty of space for the tents and carriages to house the men, women and the one young boy within the gang. Or as Dutch Van Der Linde would call it - Family.

The morning sun was casting a particularly spectacular orange glow over the plains and cliff edges, sending rays of warm light through the tree lines to warm up the faces of those at camp. Not that Arthur Morgan took much notice of the views. His mind is, and always was, too preoccupied with survival to enjoy the finer things in life. He was a man worn beyond his years, and was currently trying to capture a few more moments of rest in his cot before someone else inevitably needed another thing from him.

The group had settled after a crusade through wintery mountain tops to find somewhere safe to call home, even if only for a little while. The warm sunny weather was a welcome change to the biting ice cold of the mountains. He considered this location comfortable and warm. The yells and shouts of the camp matriarch, Mrs Grimshaw, could be heard over the all other chatter as she hollered commands towards the other women of the group, and insults towards some of the particularly lazy men.

Susan Grimshaw had been almost a mother to Arthur since she had joined this gang many years ago on an invitation from Dutch. Arthur had been a young boy when she had joined them, not older than Seventeen. Mrs Grimshaw had been the only one to keep the camp ground moving and continued to play matriarch as the group expanded and slowly gained more and more members.

It was Mrs Grimshaw that roused him from his nap, a sharp snap of her rug beater against the barrel that served as his bedside table "Mr Morgan, if you are not busy, I am sure I can find you something to occupy your time."

"No need, Mrs Grimshaw." Arthur replied, slightly grouchily as he swung his legs off his cot and looked up into the face of his surrogate mother. She had aged far faster than a woman should. Her solid black hair was now broken by a large bright white streak caused by the stress of this chosen life. Still despite all the issues it brought, neither one of them would trade it for the world. "I'm sure there are some things I could be getting up to."

"Strauss was asking for you." She advised, turning to leave, but pausing "Don't like that man. Didn't ever take Dutch to want to get into such backhanded business ventures."

Her disdain for Strauss came from his methods of bringing in money. He was rather underhanded. Where Arthur preferred the more upfront method - pulling a gun and demanding their gold - Strauss offered people hope in the form of loaned money with astronomical interest rates. Often Strauss' victims were unsuspecting people living day to day on what little they already had. Arthur took no joy in being the muscle that would have to resort to giving out beatings to bring the owed money back to the camp.

Yet it was for neither Arthur or Mrs Grimshaw to say. Dutch Van Der Linde was their leader through the darkness. He held the guiding lantern and spoke the promises of a better life. If Strauss was to be part of the path to finally settling down, then Strauss would continue to give out loans, and Arthur would continue to give out beatings.

With some strain, Arthur pushed himself up from his cot and gave his back a stretch until it popped. Arguably an afternoon of riding from town to town looking for money would be easier than some other money making options he had - robbing a train for instance. Strauss was a skinny man, always dressed in his best suits, and never a speck of mud on him. He spoke in a thick Austrian accent which made understanding him difficult, especially as he was a particularly well educated man. Arthur's knowledge when it came to the law was limited to knowing 'Wanted Dead or Alive' meant he would have to ride fast in the opposite direction.