Aaliyah's Redemption: Bound by Fate ***DISCONTINUED, READ DESCRIPTION***

Chapter IX

The sun warmed Aaliyah's face as she strolled across Horseshoe Overlook. She felt the cool morning air slowly giving way to a pleasant warmth as the sun rose higher, casting long, golden rays over the camp. Birds chirped in the distance, and the scent of dew on grass still lingered in the breeze.

Tilly had just left her, and Aaliyah took a moment to absorb the life around her. The gang bustled with activity—Bill chopping wood, Pearson preparing something over the fire, and the sounds of the horses whinnying softly in their tethered spots. Despite the bruises that ached across her body, Aaliyah felt more alive than she had in days.

She was just about to head towards the small group of women sitting together when she saw Arthur heading her way. His stride was casual but deliberate, and he tipped his hat as he approached. "Miss Stephens," he greeted her, his voice gravelly by with a warmth that made her smile.

"Call me Aaliyah," she responded, her eyes softening. "You've done more than enough for me already."
Arthur nodded, his lips curling into a slight smile that seemed to surprise even himself. "Arlight, Aaliyah. How're you feelin' today?"

Aaliyah paused, considering the question. She touched the tender skin around her neck, where a bruise had deepened in colour. "I'm okay," she said softly. "The headache gone after some water. I guess I was just dehydrated. Everything else..." She trailed off as she saw Arthur studying her injuries, his expression darkening.

"Arthur?" she called gently, pulling him out of his thoughts.

He blanked, then shook his head as if to clear it. "Sorry," he muttered. "Was just thinkin' how some people don't deserve to call themselves men."

Aaliyah's chest tightened at his words. "I don't understand it either," she said quietly, her gaze falling to the dirt under her boots. She swallowed thickly. "But I guess... I'm lucky to have escaped."

Arthur grunted in agreement, his jaw clenched. "More than lucky. I'm takin' you into town today," he said abruptly, changing the subject. "We'll get you some proper clothes and anything else you need."

Aaliyah blinked up at him, surprised. "I'd appreciate that... but I don't have any money."

"Don't worry 'bout that," Arthur replied, waving off her concern. "It's on me."

She opened her mouth to protest, but Arthur held up a hand, his tone firm yet gentle. "I wouldn't have offered it if I didn't mean it, Aaliyah. Now go see Pearson for some food while I get things sorted."

Aaliyah nodded, grateful but still feeling a bit unsure. "Thank you, Arthur," she said, her voice soft with sincerity.

She made her way over to Pearson, who welcomed her with a booming voice and a can of silverside. She thanked him and wandered back toward the camp, still clutching the can but not quite feeling hungry enough to eat. The atmosphere around Horseshoe Overlook was serene yet lively—women gathered to talk, and the men worked or lounged, each caught up in their routines.

Aaliyah's gaze drifted over to the women by the fire. Among them, she recognised Tilly, but next to her was someone Aaliyah hadn't yet met—a woman with a fierce look in her eyes, dressed in rugged, practical clothes. Something about her struck Aaliyah as familiar.

Arthur's voice broke through her thoughts. "Y'know, it helps if you actually eat the food," he said with a smirk, his arms crossed as he leaned against a nearby tree.

Startled, Aaliyah let out a small laugh. "I was just about to sit down and eat," she fibbed lightly, glancing back at the woman again. "Who's the lady next to Tilly?"

"That's Mrs Adler," Arthur said, his tone unreadable. "Sadie. She joined us recently. Lost her husband..."

Aaliyah's heart clenched at that. It was one thing to know hardship and pain—it was another to lose someone you loved. "I'll keep that in mind," she murmured, her thoughts clouded by sympathy and curiosity.

Arthur motioned toward his horse, Maverick, who stood patiently nearby. "C'mon," he said, nodding toward town. "Let's get goin'."

Aaliyah hesitated for a moment, then handed Arthur the can of silverside. "I'm not all that hungry, to be honest," she said with a sheepish smile.

Arthur chuckled softly, accepting the can and tossing it back toward the supply wagon. In one swift motion, he grabbed Aaliyah by the waist and lifted her onto Maverick's back, setting her just behind the saddle. He swung himself up in front of her, the smell of leather and earth filled the air around them as they set off at a slow, steady pace down the hill.

The rhythmic beat of Maverick's hooves was soothing as they rode toward Valentine. Neither of them said much, but the silence between them was comfortable. Aaliyah found herself watching Arthur's broad back, wondering how someone so hardened by life could still hold such compassion.

The closer they got to Valentine, however, the more uneasy Aaliyah felt. The town held memories—ones she wasn't sure she was ready to face. Her pulse quickened as they crossed the railroad tracks and entered the familiar streets. Arthur was greeted by several townsfolk, each tipping their hats and calling out to him with respect. Aaliyah kept her head low, as she always did when passing through towns, but this time, without her usual hat, she felt exposed.

Arthur slowed Maverick to a stop in front of the sheriff's office, and Aaliyah's stomach twisted in knots. She'd been in this building before,under very different circumstances.

"I need to handle somethin' real quick," Arthur said, dismounting the horse with a grunt. He reached up to help her down, but paused when he saw the panic in her eyes. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice dropping low with concern.

Aaliyah swallowed hard, her eyes flicking toward the sheriff's office. "I just... don't like crowds. Too many men," she whispered

Arthur frowned, his protective instincts flaring. He placed a steadying hand on her lower back. "Stay close," he muttered, guiding her inside.

The moment they stepped through the door, Aaliyah's heart skipped a beat. The sheriff looked up from his desk and greeted them with a nod. "Arthur. Ma'am." Arthur acknowledged him with a tip of his hat. "Sheriff."

The sheriff leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "You lookin' for work?" he asked. "Because Miss Stephens here—"

The mention of her name cut through the room like a knife. Arthur's eyes narrowed, his hand unconsciously resting on his holster. Aaliyah's breath hitched as she locked eyes with the sheriff, her heart pounding in her chest.

It seemed the past wasn't quite done with her yet.