Ghosts of the Past [ RDR2 - Arthur Morgan ]

Chapter 41 - No Safe Haven

Word count - 1880

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CHAPTER 41 - No Safe Haven

Sadie, Rose, and Jacob sat on the small porch, their voices low as they discussed John Marston's predicament. The swamp water stretched out before them, dark and sluggish, thick with insects. Under Rose's insistence, Arthur was left to rest—at least for the night—before they told him the full weight of his brother-in-arms' situation.

Inside, Arthur lay on a hammock, his stolen-back hat resting over his sunburnt face. A rare moment of peace. A number of the other Guarma-men had found their way back to Lakay over the day.

When Dutch Van Der Linde finally arrived, the camp came alive. Warm voices called out, feet shuffled forward, hands clapped his back. Their leader had returned, and for a moment, it felt like something had been made whole again.

When the commotion began, Sadie and Rose quickly entered the cabin first, the gang seemed pretty happy for Dutch's triumphant return as he grinning and greeted everyone jovially. He, much like the others, was badly burned, tired and dirty. But the sight of his family was a warm and welcome one.

"He's back!" Was heard from some as the gang all converged in the small front section of the cabin.

Dutch huffed a laugh, looking over his people like a king returning to his court. "Well, I'll be damned. How'd you folks find each other?" His grin widened. "What happened? And—hell—someone get me a cup of coffee, would ya?"

In an instant Tilly Jackson was off to pour him some as the others settled in around him. Then Dutch's gaze slid over the gang—warm, easy—until it landed on Jacob. The shift was slight, but noticeable. His smile didn't vanish, but it cooled, just enough. "Well, well. Mr. Coors, weren't it?" His arms folded slowly across his chest, the movement casual but guarded.

"It was Mr Coors, and Mrs Adler who saved us, Dutch." Struss's thick Austrian accent spoke up, not immediately noticing Dutch's drop in demeanour. "After the robbery in Saint Denis-"

"Jacob here helped us get Hosea and Lenny's bodies from the law." Grimshaw spoke up. She had sensed the slip in Dutch's smile.

Dutch raised a brow, looking him over unsure. A man brought into his gang without his own say so? It didn't sit right with the leader. His sharp eyes fell on Rose for just a split second, then back to Coors.

"So you reckon you'd just... stick around?" Dutch hummed.

Jacob stayed quiet—smart man. It was Arthur who spoke up instead. "Man's solid." Arthur's voice was rough, worn, but firm. He leaned against the wooden support beam, running a hand over his newly trimmed beard. "He's a pain in my ass... but he's solid."

Arthur's word carried weight. Dutch knew that. So, after a beat, that too-wide grin returned. "Well, if Morgan says so..." He stepped forward, offering Jacob a handshake—firm, just a little too firm. Jacob took it, but he didn't relax. "I s'pose one more gun never hurt." He offered. Clapped one firm hand on Jacob's shoulder and let go.

Turning to greet the others and accepting his cup of coffee, Jacob leaned towards the girls "Man's gone shoot me in my sleep, ain't he?" He asked Rose and Sadie with a huff of humourless laughter.

"Probably. Do us all a favour." Sadie rasped.

Jacob's eyes flicked over the blonde, grin curling slow, practiced. "Knew you'd warm up to me eventually, firecracker."