Ella Matthews - A RDR2 Fanfiction

Chapter Eight: Reunion

A few weeks later and there's a commotion outside. I grab my gun immediately, going to protect Abigail and Pearson, who are outside.

Turns out, they don't need defending.

It's Arthur.

"Arthur!" My face breaks out in a smile.

He comes over and gives me a hug.

"Hey, Ella," he says.

He's too thin. He has purple eyes set in a white face. "You look awful. You should sleep," I murmur.

"Thanks," Arthur rolls his eyes. "Javier's on his way," he mutters.

A huge weight is lifted from me. "Okay, thank you. Go inside. The others want to see you," I smile.

He nods, and heads inside to cries of his name.

I follow him in. It's started to rain; there's no point in getting wet outside.

My hair looks nicer dry.

Javier.

Just the thought of him makes my heart soar.

Dutch returns.

I finally feel joy in my heart again.

Camp has been bad as of late. Everyone has been on edge, now we return to our usual, easy happiness.

Then Micah returns.

My heart falls slightly, but I'm still happy... ish, that he's alive.

Then someone limps through the door.

"Javier!" I cry, flinging myself into his arms.

"Ella!" he hugs me tight.

"Oh, Javier, I-" I tail off and realise that his leg is bandaged. "Are you okay?!"

"Yeah. I'll live," he says with a half smile. "I missed you," he hugs me again.

"I missed you too," I murmur into his chest. Tears escape my eyes before I can stop them. But I'm happy, for the first time in weeks.

He's cold and soaking wet from the rain. The cold leaches through my clothes, making me shiver, but he's worth it.

*

I watch Javier. I can't believe he's back.

We're riding up to the new camp after Pinkertons showed up yesterday.

Somebody ratted, about the bank job and our camp.

So now we're going to a place called Roanoke Ridge.

A place called Beaver Hollow.

Apparently, an inbred family of hillbillies live here.

Before I even knew that, the place didn't feel right.

Something about the way the trees whisper.

I've had trees whispering before. Usually it's comforting.

Now it's just unsettling.

Perhaps it's the patterns the sun makes on the dirt as it filters through the trees.

Perhaps it's the imminent threat of cougars or bobcats or black bears.

Perhaps it's the feeling of impending doom.

I feel like this might be over.

Dutch hasn't been right since he got back from wherever the hell he and the others got stranded for a few weeks.