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Chapter Text

Chapter one.

Laura.

 Thirst burned in her throat, dust cloyed in her nose, and the taste of the dirty gag in her mouth all acted as an unwanted reminder that she was, unfortunately, still alive despite everything.
 Laura weakly opened her eyes to see the same surroundings she’d been trapped in for what felt like an eternity. Her hands were tied to a support in the corner of the cellar she’d been herded into, nothing but dirt walls and a damp floor for company.
 “This can’t be real” she kept telling herself, but if it was a bad dream surely she would’ve woken up by now.
 She’d lost count of the days after the third day of isolation. A small window above her head had told her of the passing of time, but hopelessness had stopped her from counting any further.  
 It was night now, and Laura hoped it would be the last one she’d have to endure. 
 She shifted uncomfortably, trying to soothe the pain in her joints from being cooped up for so long. The men that’d shoved her down here had promised to return, but they hadn’t.  
 A small blessing considering what they’d intended for her.  
 But now that meant she was doomed to die down here, forgotten and alone.  
 A solitary tear trickled down her dirt smeared face, dripping onto the dirt floor with a louder than usual smack.  
 Laura had tried shouting for help, but the gag had silenced her. Rather poetic considering the life she’d led.  
 With a defeated sigh Laura let her head hang and closed her eyes for the final time, letting the silence of the countryside wash over her.  
 But then her ears pricked at the sound of approaching horses. Her eyes flew open. “Oh god, protect me” she prayed silently as she heard them getting closer until warm lamplight leaked in through the small window.  
 “Whatever happens” she thought, steeling herself for whatever came next. “I won’t let them hear me scream” it was a small defiance, but she refused to be entertainment for the men that would surely end her life.

Chapter Text

Chapter two.
Arthur.

Arthur swung his leg over Boadicea before hitting the ground with a light thud. John and Bill were already looking around the other buildings that dotted the homestead, making sure the place was secure before they started looting.
 “You sure them O’Driscolls were tellin the truth bout this place?” Mac said, eyeing the half open door sceptically.
 Arthur shrugged and pulled the shotgun from his saddle, checking the ammo before starting towards the porch. “I reckon so, I doubt they would’ve lied considering the barrel under their chins” he replied, nudging the door open with the shotgun's muzzle.
 It was dead quiet and smelt of iron inside, making the hair on his neck stand on end.
 Arthur knew well what that meant.
 The first body was slumped against the wall next to a now cold stove. A gun was still clutched in his cold hands.
 “What a mess” Arthur breathed quietly, looking at the ransacked house. The table had been overturned, broken glass crunched underfoot, and torn apart clothes were strewn everywhere.
 Mac came up beside him, his brown eyes narrowed in confusion. “Looks like they was lookin for somethin” he said upon seeing the place.
 Arthur stepped over a once fine looking dress and headed deeper into the house. He found another body halfway between rooms, a cleaver clutched in her hands from her attempt at defending her home.
 Those were the only corpses in the house, but three beds had been made.
 The logical part of Arthur assumed some poor soul had been killed in a barn, but those suspicions were snuffed out when Bill and John reappeared.
 “It’s weird” John said. “Nothin out there except luggage with women’s clothes inside” he sighed, “hardly worth anythin”
 Mac spat a wad of tobacco onto the porch. “We’re missin a corpse, so what?” He scraped his boot clean on the rough wood. “A wasted lead” he gave Arthur a pointed look that made his cheeks flush with embarrassment.
 “We’ll just find anything useful and go. Susan’s been houndin me for a new hair pin after last week’s outing” Arthur grumbled, trying to make the dead end lead less painful.
 He stepped off the porch and took the lantern off Boadicea’s saddle before heading around the back of the house, hoping the cool night air would make him feel like less of an ass, when he saw it.
 The doors of a cellar jutted out of the ground. At first excitement unfolded in his chest at the prospect of anything valuable being hidden down there, until he saw the rope wrapped around the handles.
 “Strange” was all he thought.
 “Found somethin!” He shouted over his shoulder. He unsheathed his knife and sliced through the rope with ease, pulling the tendrils free before heaving the heavy doors open.
 It was dark and damp inside, causing Arthur to shiver as he descended the rickety stairs.
 The lantern bathed the seemingly empty cellar in warm light, causing the figure in the corner to shrink away.
 Arthur dropped the lantern in shock, casting the cellar in complete darkness again. He unholstered his gun without a second thought and aimed at the dark corner where the person had been.
 “Who goes there!” He barked out, stooping to pick up the still hot remains of his lantern.
 There was no reply, only the sound of the others coming to investigate the commotion.
 Light poured in as the posse gathered in the cellar, their guns drawn just in case.
 Arthur squinted at the person now, seeing wild black hair, a dirty chemise, and sickly pale skin. He also noticed her wrists had been worn red raw from the rope securing them.
 “Is that-?”
 “A woman” Bill finished for Mac, making everyone cock their heads in confusion.
 “I think we found the third” Arthur said, finally lowering his gun. The last thing he wanted was to scare her considering the cruelty she must’ve Already faced.
 But when he got closer he saw her green eyes staring up at him defiantly. She didn’t look afraid at all, more like she was ready to scratch his eyes out at the first chance she got.
 Arthur crouched beside her and reached out to untie her hands. She pulled away from him and mumbled something through the gag in her mouth.
Judging by the way her eyebrows were turned downward, it wasn't anything friendly.
 “It’s okay” Arthur said softly, loud enough only for her to hear. “We ain’t gonna hurt you” he promised, waiting for her to relax before he started on the rope again.
 The woman’s eyes turned tired and watery before she let him get close again. Arthur was careful not to hurt her, but the sores on her wrists began to bleed.
 “Why the hell are you down here?” Arthur thought to himself when he’d finally freed her.
 The first thing she did was pull the gag out of her mouth. She took long dragging breaths as she held the dirty rag before weakly throwing it into the corner of the cellar. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she stared at that same corner.
 Arthur cast a glance towards the others who were still standing in silence. John had taken off his hat and held it in his hands, remembering Hosea’s lessons in manners; for once.
 “What do we do with her?” Bill asked, gesturing to the house above them. They could hardly just send her on her way considering what had just happened.
 Before Arthur could reply, the woman was glaring at Bill. She didn’t say anything, just glared with tears tracking down her face.
 Arthur straightened to his full height and took in the woman’s appearance. She looked unwell and disturbed, in absolutely no shape to be left on her own.
 He held a hand out to her. “Ma’am, is there anywhere you can go?” He asked, praying she’d nod.
 But her head shook before she buried her face in her hands and quiet sobs began racking her thin body.
 Mac shifted uncomfortably before he and Bill darted back up the stairs, using some excuse about getting the horses ready.
 Arthur pulled his coat off and draped it across her shoulders, hoping it was the right thing to do, before helping her to her feet.
 “It don’t matter now, let’s just get you somewhere safe” he said as he led her across the damp floor towards the stairs. John followed closely but didn’t say a word, just as disturbed about their find as the others.
 Just as they reached the surface the woman swayed before her legs gave out beneath her. Arthur managed to ease her to the ground and scooped her up in his arms.
 “What do we do with her?” Mac repeated Bill’s question as he followed Arthur to the horses. “We can’t take her back to camp, she looks as weak as a lamb” he sneered.
 Arthur pushed her onto his saddle before climbing up behind her. “Well we can hardly leave her here. Dutch’ll understand the situation” he retorted.
 Mac screwed his nose up. “I know you’re only doing this because she’s a woman. If it’d been a man down there you would’ve just untied him and gone on your way”
 Arthur’s hands tightened on the reins. “Considering the amount of times I’ve had to ride in and save Marston I highly doubt that” annoyance prickled under his scalp, making him lash out at John as well as Mac.
 Without waiting for another word of protest, Arthur turned Boadicea in the direction of camp and left the three behind. 

Chapter Text

Chapter three.
Laura.

Consciousness returned to Laura in fits and starts, making her believe she’d died and this was her gruelling journey to the afterlife. 
 But Laura knew she was alive. She was in too much pain to be dead.
 After taking her first shaky steps out of that wretched cellar she must’ve blacked out as when she next woke she was being spoon fed a thin broth by a stern faced older woman.
 Now Laura lay with her eyes closed, trying to imagine herself on a warm beach or back in the city.
 She could hear the soft breathing of the same woman who’d given her broth. Occasionally the breathing was interrupted by the sound of a page turning, telling Laura the woman was reading something.
 A small part of Laura wanted to sink into the hard bed and never wake up again, but nagging curiosity also lingered inside her.
 Laura half opened her eyes to see the dark blue canvas of a tent above her head. It was light outside, something that nearly brought tears to her eyes.
 The woman closed her book with a snap, making Laura jump, the sound briefly sounding like a gunshot in her ears.  
 “Easy girl” the woman said, putting a steadying hand on Laura’s shoulder. She had dark blue eyes and grey streaked hair.
 The woman let go of her and turned to a side table Laura hadn’t seen before. She brought a cup of water to Laura’s lips and tilted it towards her.
 When Laura had drunk her fill the woman returned the cup to the table before resting her hands on her lap. “Is there anywhere you can go?” She asked, getting straight to the point.
 Laura stared vacantly at the tent entrance, catching small glimpses of movement outside.
 When she didn’t reply the woman moved on to the next question. “Do you have a name?” Her eyes narrowed. “Can you speak?” She added quietly.
 Laura’s throat worked before she managed to say the first words she’d spoken in days. “Laura” her voice didn’t feel like her own, it was too brittle. “Laura Sinclair”

The woman gave a not so subtle sigh of relief, obviously thankful to not be handling an invalid. “Well it’s nice to meet you, Miss Sinclair” she said, smoothing her skirt absentmindedly. “My name is Susan Grimshaw, but you will refer to me as Miss Grimshaw” there was an edge to her voice, as though she was challenging Laura to object.
 Laura nodded weakly before turning onto her side, just wanting to fall into oblivion.
 She heard Miss Grimshaw get up from the chair and brush past the stiff cot Laura was curled up on.
 “I’m sorry about your family” Laura looked around at Miss Grimshaw in confusion before remembering that this woman knew nothing about her.
 “They weren’t my family” she murmured. “Just friends”

 Susan’s mouth twisted downward at that. She regained some composure and gave her a curt nod before leaving Laura alone again.
 “They didn’t deserve to die” Laura thought sadly, staring at the patchy canvas wall. She could think of at least four people more deserving of the violent deaths her friends had suffered.
 Her hands tightened on the blanket, turning her knuckles white, as she fought to stop herself from sobbing again. She was in a thin tent surrounded by strangers, the remaining dregs of pride hidden away inside of her forbid her from succumbing to the emotional outburst she’d suffered upon her rescue.

Chapter Text

Chapter four.
Laura.

 Laura gripped the rough blanket she’d wrapped around herself as she struggled to comprehend the sheer size of the encampment around her.
 She’d known she was in some kind of camp, but the city of canvas laid out before her was bordering on the bizarre when she first laid eyes upon it.
 The flock of chickens pecking away at the ground on the edge of camp didn’t help her surprise.
 Wagons, tents, campfires, and tables littered the place in a haphazard manner, but there was a certain untamed charm to it. The trees all around the camp were in different shades of reds and golds, making everything look more ethereal.
 “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies” 

 Laura spun on her heel to face the man leaning against a blue wagon to the left of Laura’s tent.

 With a jolt of realisation she recognised the dirty blonde hair and stubbly jaw of the man that’d untied her.
 She stared a little while longer, transfixed by his eyes of all things. They seemed to flicker between blue and green, nearly hypnotising her to the point of forgetting his rather rude introduction.

 Nearly.
 Laura slammed her mouth shut. “My mouth wasn’t open” it was a lie you’d expect from a child, not a fully grown woman, but Laura refused to be made fun of. “I was yawning”

 “‘Course you was” he said, his voice not quite low enough for Laura to miss. “How are you?” He asked, seemingly changing the direction of the conversation.
 “As well as I can be” Laura kept her eyes down, a habit she’d learnt from childhood. “But I’m still a little shaken” it was the understatement of the century, but she could hardly throw herself to the ground and become inconsolable in front of this man.
 “Well that’s expected, being tied up in barely any clothes does that to people” he scratched his chin in thought. “That’s a summer I wish to forget” he added with a soft chuckle.
 Laura’s mouth dropped open in shock. “You think this is a joke?” She was almost speechless.
 He held his hands up in an attempt to calm her. “I didn’t mean no offence”

 Annoyance prickled her skin, causing her to turn away from him and start towards what she assumed was the cookfire. The last thing she wanted was to make any more conversation with a smart-ass.
 Even if he’d saved her from certain death.
 “You gonna thank me for th-“

 “No” Laura cut him off over her shoulder.
 As she picked up a plate and filled it with a miserable looking stew she knew with the utmost certainty that she did not like that man.

*

After finishing her meagre meal Laura was greeted by a finely dressed man with black hair and a tall thin man with greying blonde hair. They both gave her an appraising look before taking a seat at the same table.

 “Dutch Van Der Linde” the finely dressed man introduced himself quickly. “You must be Laura Sinclair. I’m dreadfully sorry about your ordeal with the O’Driscolls” he barrelled into the conversation in a fashion that nearly gave Laura whiplash.
 She felt as though she recognised the name from somewhere, but she just folded her hands in her lap and cracked her fingers one by one. “I’m nearly recovered, other than the man handling, they barely touched me” she replied, praying they understood that she meant she hadn’t been assaulted.
 Dutch waved her off. “Still a terrifying experience for a woman like you” he gestured towards the second man. “May I introduce Hosea Matthews”

 Laura nodded at him in greeting. She’d only known Dutch for a couple of minutes but he was already the most eccentric man she’d ever met, leaving her feeling a little out of depth.
 “You’re lucky Arthur has a habit of nosing around places” Hosea said.
 “The man that untied me” Laura fought to stop herself from grinding her teeth upon hearing his name. “It could’ve been anyone” she said quietly, staring at her now empty bowl.
 Dutch nodded, but Laura doubted it was in agreement to what she’d just said. “Now my question is do you have anywhere you can go?” He asked. “Susan told me those people weren’t your family so am I right in assuming you still have family somewhere?” Laura’s mouth went dry at that, causing her to swallow thickly. Just the mere thought of her family was enough to unsettle her, even now.
 “They’re unavailable” she said quickly. “I have nowhere else” She noticed Hosea open his mouth to speak before Dutch quickly cut him off.
 “Well there’s no need to fret, you have us now” he said, mistaking the cause of Laura’s anxiety.
 Her brows furrowed in confusion. “And who are you?” She’d been awake for two days and she still had no notion of what they were doing out here.

 “We’re a nomadic community taking odd jobs” Hosea said with Dutch nodding along. “To put it lightly” he quietly added, not helping Laura’s feeling of unease.
 As she stared at the chipped and damaged wood grain of the table it suddenly occurred to her that these men were speaking like they were advertising. “Why does it feel like you’re trying to convince me to stay here?” Her response was perhaps a little bold but the two men didn’t even flinch.
 “Not convince, no, more informing you that there’s a place here if you need it” he explained. His face turned a little serious before adding. “But all I ask is for your silence. Not many look upon nomadic communities with kindness. And you’d need to pull your weight”

 Anxiety caused goose flesh to rise on Laura’s back. “Silence? What could that mean?” She swallowed again and turned her attention to the second half of what he’d said. “Manual labour is nothing to what I’ve already been through” Laura told herself silently. Judging by the size of the camp and its occupants she’d only need to do a little laundry every now and then.
 “I can’t afford to go back, not now”

 she straightened and met Dutch’s eyes. They were golden in colour and there was a sly glint to them, making her second guess her decision for a second. “Alright, but I need clothes” she gestured to the night clothes hidden under the blanket she’d wrapped around herself. She could hardly traipse around the place like this, especially not with winter coming.
 With that Dutch said his goodbyes and left, leaving Hosea to give Laura a long look. Out of the pair of them Laura guessed Hosea was the voice of reason.
 “Remember, you’re always free to leave” he said before standing, leaving Laura with probably more questions than answers.

Chapter Text

Chapter five.

Arthur.

 Arthur rode out of camp in stony silence, his thoughts swirling like a vast waterfall.
 He hadn’t thought before offending Laura. He’d only been trying to lighten the mood. It’d worked before with others, so why not with her.
 “Why the long face, Morgan?” Davey asked, pulling Arthur from his train of thought. “You worryin bout the coach job comin up?” He asked inquisitively.
 Arthur pushed his hat back to get a better view of the path ahead. “No, just that girl we found in the cellar” he said dismissively, not wanting to go into it with Davey.
 They swerved off the horse track onto a well trodden road heading towards Deer Creek. The gang had only been in these parts for a few weeks and the horses already knew their way, meaning Arthur could relax in the saddle a little.
 “Mac thinks it was a bad idea bringin her to camp” Davey picked his teeth with a gnarled finger nail as he spoke, looking bored. “Thinks she goin to run straight to a ranger first chance she gets”  
 Arthur grimaced at that. “Maybe” was all the response he could muster. He’d seen her eyes in that cellar. She was a fighter, that’s for sure. But he’d also seen the meek little lamb when he’d asked how she was, how her eyes turned towards the ground and her voice had turned light. Experience told Arthur she was used to being screamed at, that she’d been expecting a snap for a reply from him, not a poorly timed joke.
 Maybe that’s why she’d reacted with such hostility to the joke.
 They left the tree line and headed towards a prairie as big as the eye could see. Davey and Arthur stopped the horses to stare down at the town below them, taking in the sight for a moment.
 “Mac thinks you only brought her back for your own enjoyment” he waggled his bushy eyebrows at Arthur, the implication perfectly clear.
 Arthur gritted his teeth and shook his head violently. “Mac’s gettin carried away. I ain’t no fool, I value my life” he laughed before spurring Boadicea onward.
 But as he rode he couldn’t help but think of Laura’s delicate face. Her raven black hair and deep green eyes seemed to be burned into his memory, haunting him for the rest of the journey.

Chapter Text

Chapter six. 

Laura.

A few weeks later.

 It was hell. 

 Working in the camp turned out to be more back breaking than Laura had originally anticipated. 

 Miss Grimshaw was a cruel and unforgiving woman. She’d been sympathetic to Laura’s situation for all of five minutes before turning into a malevolent banshee, constantly shouting orders at Laura and the others. 

 The others being the few other women in the camp. Annabelle, Karen, Emily, and a former street urchin called Tilly. 

 Laura had quickly learned that Annabelle was the women’s ring leader of a sort. She was favoured by Dutch and could hold her own against Miss Grimshaw, making Laura respect her.

 During her time in the camp Laura had also discovered that Hosea hadn’t been entirely truthful about their line of work. Once or twice she’d seen some of the men returning to camp with their faces covered and carrying bags of money. 

 But the work load distracted her from asking any questions.

 As Laura worked she thought about everything that’d happened to her. 

 Her flight from Saint Denis. Meeting those two lovely people that’d offered to give her shelter. The four days of peace spent on the farm.

 And then the violent fight when those men, the O’Driscoll’s, had come. 

 She’d been sleeping when the door had slammed open, the sound reverberating through the house like a gunshot as her friends had scrambled to defend themselves.

 It’d all been in vain, they were shot like rabid anima-

 “Do you think this is a holiday camp, Missy?” Susan’s voice violently tore Laura from the memory, causing her to drop the clothes she’d been washing into the soapy water.

 “I’m sorry, I was miles away” she explained.

 But it wasn’t good enough for Susan. “I’ve shot girls for less, remember that!” She snapped out, making Laura flinch. 

 “Give it a rest, Grimshaw” Annabelle sighed, not even looking up from the ripped clothes she was mending. “We all know you’re all bark and no bite” her brown eyes locked onto Miss Grimshaw then, challenging her to react.

 Susan’s hands bunched into fists but she ultimately decided to bite her tongue and return to bothering someone else, muttering something about disloyalty as she went.

 “Thank you” Laura said, looking over to where Annabelle sat on the wagon step.

 She waved her off. “That woman thrives on misery, don’t let her get to you” 

 They worked on in silence from there. The whole camp was unnaturally quiet for this time of day since John, Mac, Levi, Lawrence, and Arthur had gone out on a job. Laura hadn’t dared ask what they were doing, she’d seen their grim faces and thought better of it.

 “Likely something illegal” the thought came out of nowhere, but it seemed to be fitting.

 When the laundry was done Laura moved on to carrying water from the nearby river. 

 Leaving the confines of the camp helped clear her head. The soothing sound and smell of trees made her feel a little less trapped.

 A ridiculous feeling considering she’d never been as free as she was right now. 

 She knelt to fill the bucket with water and felt the icy chill nip at her fingers. Winter would be upon them soon, a reminder of just how long she’d been free.

 She’d made her getaway with rhododendron flowers clutched in her hand. The flight had been sudden, but the fact that it’d happened was prize enough. 

 Careful not to spill any of the water, Laura turned and trudged through the fallen leaves back towards camp. 

 That’s when the sound of someone shouting made her freeze. 

 Something was happening in camp. She could see the horses, that’d ridden out only a few hours ago, had returned, but someone was shouting in the camp.

 Laura quickened her pace before breaking out in an unsteady jog, cursing the oversized boots she’d been given as she sloshed water over the sides of the bucket. 

 “It was a stick up!” Levi was shouting. A small crowd had formed around him and the bleeding man he was half carrying half dragging towards the main table. “Law all over us from the damned start!” 

 Laura pushed up onto her toes to get a better view of what was going on.

 Her heart nearly stopped when she realised that the wounded man was Arthur. 

 Blood stained the left arm of his blue shirt. He’d obviously been shot, making Laura feel a little sick. 

 “Coulda been worse” he said through gritted teeth. “They could’ve damaged my beautiful fa-“ he cried out in pain, cutting what he was about to say off as Levi pushed him onto the table.

 “Were you followed back?” Dutch’s voice was a bark of concern as he looked over Arthur’s injury.

 Lawrence Drake crossed his broad arms. “What kind of question is that, of course we weren’t followed!” He retorted a little harshly. 

 Laura watched as an argument unfolded. There hadn’t been many times she’d been thankful to be born a woman, but seeing these men’s short tempers made her thankful today.

 She squeezed her way to the front of the crowd as they argued amongst themselves. Arthur was gripping his wounded bicep, his eyes squeezed shut in pain, blood leaking out from beneath his hand.

 Laura didn’t like him, but seeing how pale he’d become spurred her to action.

 “Will you all quiet down and help him?” She raised her voice, earning a few looks of surprise. “Whilst you argue about, whatever it is you’re arguing about, Mr Morgan is bleeding and in pain!” Laura was a little surprised her voice hadn’t so much as shook. 

 After a few heartbeats of thick silence Dutch cleared his throat. “Hosea, Miss Grimshaw, get Arthur patched up. Mr Drake, Mr Callander, come and explain everything” he nodded once at Laura and disappeared into his tent, closely followed by Lawrence and Mac.

 “Thought you didn’t… like me” Arthur panted out at her, his smile looked half drunk from the blood loss. 

 Despite his condition, Laura wasn’t about to let him get the last laugh that easily. “I just didn’t want to see the table soiled any further” she replied tartly.

 “Behave” Hosea said to both of them. He slung Arthur’s uninjured arm over his shoulders and helped him towards Arthur’s wagon, taking slow steps to not exert the wounded man. 

 Susan gave Laura a final hostile look before following the two men. 

 Laura didn’t need to guess how she’d offended the prickly older woman. She’d spoken out of turn, raised her voice at the people above her.

 “I don’t care if it earns me a month of clothes washing, I couldn’t just watch as he bled out whilst they argued!” Laura reasoned with herself, but she still felt a nagging feeling in her gut about what she’d done.

 She didn’t care about him. 

 So why had she raised her voice?

Chapter Text

Chapter seven.

Laura.

 “He’s going to be a bit stiff for a while, but the prize pony lives to see another rodeo” Levi said, sounding a little annoyed about the news. 

 “Good Lord, could you imagine if he died? Hosea would don a widow's weaves and Dutch would throw himself in the grave and start burying himself!” Mac laughed like a squealing pig, causing a chorus of chuckles from the others. 

 Laura stabbed at her food in the low light. It was all so confusing. When she’d first arrived in camp she’d gathered that Arthur was everyone’s favourite, but hearing Levi and Mac’s chortling made her think otherwise. 

 “Boys pretendin to be men” Karen mumbled. “You wouldn’t hear Arthur sayin any of this about any of you!” 

 Levi bared his teeth. “Shut it, Jones!” 

 Karen jumped to her feet and made to swing at Levi, but Annabelle caught her arm and held her back. “He ain’t worth it!” she kept repeating in a weak attempt to quell her friend's rage. Levi didn’t help himself as he laughed along.

 Laura pushed away the rest of her dinner, the display of anger stirring up some unwanted memories that made her lose her appetite. “I’m going to bed” 

 “Sight of blood made you woozy, Sinclair?” Levi jeered, unexpectedly targeting Laura. “Try ridin with the men, we have it way worse than any of you two bit whores” 

 That caused Karen to snap, and Annabelle let her. She barrelled into Levi with her whole body, causing him to fall off the upturned crate he’d been using as a chair. 

 Laura joined in with the laughter for once as they watched Levi get pummeled by said two bit whore. 

 “Enough, all of you!” Susan’s voice was a roar of anger, making everyone straighten up in alarm. “You’re all acting like feral children in need of a whipping!” She turned to Levi who shrunk away from her waving finger. “And you’re digging shit holes for the next month!” 

 Relief washed over Laura at that. Maybe if Miss Grimshaw took her anger out on Levi she would forget about Laura’s outburst. 

 “Miss Sinclair” Susan said. 

 It would appear Laura had thought too soon. 

 “Stay with Mr Morgan” she ordered.

 Laura’s mouth dropped open. “Why me?” It was foolish to question this woman, but she couldn’t just let her boss her around, Annabelle’s words had emboldened her a little.

 “He’ll need help with the sling and I need someone to keep the fever down if he gets sick” her eyes narrowed, causing the crows feet around her eyes to deepen. “Or is that too far beneath you, dearie?” Her voice dripped with venom.

 “Go to hell you old hag!” Laura screamed internally, but she forced herself to just lock her jaw and nod stiffly. “I understand” 

 She could practically feel Levi’s taunting glare burning into the back of her skull as she made her way to Arthur’s blue wagon. 

 Maybe Arthur wasn’t that high on her list of men she currently hated, Levi was doing an outstanding job of climbing the rankings himself. 

 Outside of the awning Laura hesitated, unsure of whether she had to knock on the canvas. 

 Could she even knock on an awning?

 Taking a steadying breath Laura parted the canvas. 

 The first thing she noticed as she stepped inside was the animal skin rug carpeting the ground. Whilst she had to put up with the bare grass as her flooring, this man had a rug! The whole tent was well furnished considering they were living outside. Arthur had a deep clothes trunk, table, chair, a few crates being used as shelving, and a mirror for shaving.

 It made Laura green with envy.

 She looked over at him, half expecting to see another one of his sly smiles on his face even as he slept, but quickly averted her gaze. 

 He was naked from the waist up, his injured arm in a sling across his broad chest. 

 “Lord give me strength” Laura crossed herself and cast her gaze up to the heavens. 

 She must’ve made a noise of some kind as Arthur slowly opened his eyes and gave her a perplexed expression. 

 “What are you doing here?” His voice was husky with sleep.

 Laura kept her eyes upwards whilst she fumbled for the chair tucked under his table. “Believe me, the last place I want to be is here” she pulled the chair out and sat down, still staring at the canvas ceiling. “Susan made me” 

 He chuckled at that. “Say no more” 

 An awkward silence filled the space between them. Laura pulled out the battered looking chair and sat down, stiffening at the loud creak the chair made under her weight. 

 “Why was you in that cellar anyway?” Arthur piped up. “Not like O’Driscoll’s to just leave a woman unharmed” Laura saw him grimace slightly, making her think he’d seen far worse than her.

 In truth Laura didn’t know why those men had just left her there. They’d promised to come back for her later, but why exactly? Why not just get it over with and leave her corpse to prune in the sun? 

 She rubbed her arms to stave off the non-existent chill. “I don’t know” she replied feebly. 

 Arthur struggled to prop himself up on his good elbow to get a better view of Laura. “Ok then, tell me about the attack. House was in a bad state when we got there, looked like they were lookin for somethin” 

 The breath rushed out of Laura’s lungs. She’d been doing well at trying to forget that fateful night, but the prospect of talking it through with someone was a big scab to pull. 

 Like she was living through it all over again.

 She hesitated, her knuckles turning white from gripping her skirt so tightly. 

 “I don’t remember it clearly. I was asleep when I heard the screaming. I-“ she swallowed thickly, searching for the right words. “When I got into the hallway Rebecca was already dead. Next thing I know they were roughing me up” 

 Another long silence passed between them as Arthur digested this. He went to turn onto his left side to face her when his injury stopped him, so he just turned his head instead. “How do you feel about it?” 

 It was a bizarre question.

 “Weak. Vulnera-“ she stopped herself. Why was she telling him all this? She hated him!

 Arthur saw the shift in her and gave her a perplexed expression. “Somethin the matter?” 

 Laura shook her head and turned away from him, staring at the table and focusing on anything but him. 

 Neither of them spoke again after that, the conversation dried up quicker than a puddle in a desert. Arthur slipped into a heavy sleep leaving Laura to her own swirling thoughts. 

 Why had they left her in that cellar? Did they know how much she was worth?

 Were they working for the people Laura was running from?

 Those troubling thoughts chased her into a fitful and dreamless sleep. 

Chapter Text

Chapter eight. 

Arthur.

 It was his pride that was more wounded than his body. He felt the smarting of it as soon as he stepped out of his tent that morning.

 Lawrence started it. “Christ, if you’re not careful you’re gonna end up lookin like one of them kings from Egypt!" That had earned a caterwaul of a laugh from John. 

 “Very funny, I’ll be sure to remember that next time one of you boys is bandaged up” he grumbled as he passed them to get to the coffee pot. 

 The rest of the morning passed in a blur after that. He didn’t see much of Laura. She’d helped pull his shirt on this morning, but she hadn’t said much. 

 Arthur knew why. He’d pushed her too hard last night, hadn't tested the waters before beginning his questioning. 

 He’d thrown her into a lake and, by god, she was John. 

 He was brushing Boadicea when Davey came to find him. “Dutch wants to discuss somethin with you” he stuffed some chewing tobacco into his mouth, exposing his already browning teeth. 

 Arthur gave the red roan one last stroke of the brush. “What’s he want now?” He asked.

 Davey’s brows jumped up in a ‘I don’t know’ motion as he shrugged.

 “Oh how very helpful of you, Mr Callander” Arthur grunted bitterly as he left his horse to graze in the forest clearing. He made a mental note to buy more peppermints for her next time he was in town. 

 On his way back to camp he spotted Laura.

 She was busy peeling potatoes behind Pearson’s wagon, a grim set to her jaw. 

 It was at that moment he noticed something peeking out from the high collar of her blouse. A line of silvery scarred flesh.

 It made him freeze, his blood going icy.

 He recognised a scar like that. Someone had tried to slit this woman’s throat and nearly succeeded by the looks of it. 

 Every time the scar reappeared from under the fabric was like a lightning strike to Arthur’s mind. Why had someone tried to kill her? 

 The scar was old so it wasn’t from the O’Driscoll’s. It painted her past in a different light. Arthur had heard the slight inflections in her voice that meant she’d had an educated and comfortable life, so what had caused her to have such an injury?

 His wondering was dashed away when he realised Laura was glaring at him.

 Her green eyes held the same anger and disgust as when he’d first laid eyes on her, looking at him like he was a rat in a kitchen. 

 Arthur broke their eye contact and went straight to where Dutch was smoking a pipe. The camp was quiet enough for their conversation to take place at the main table.

 “How’s the arm?” Dutch started as Arthur sat across from him with a grunt. 

 He adjusted the sling secured behind his neck. “Not as bad as Hosea’s handling” Arthur flexed his fingers, satisfied none of them were numb or paralysed.

 “That’s Hosea for you” Dutch puffed out some smoke before continuing. “Deer Creek bank” he said in a rather cryptic manner. 

 Arthur raised an eyebrow at him.

 “That’s our next hit, the bank” Dutch explained. “I have a plan for a robbery. It still needs work, but it involves Miss Sinclair” 

 This caught Arthur by surprise. He looked over his shoulder to Pearson’s wagon, imagining Laura still peeling potatoes on the other side of the wood. “We have Karen, Annabelle, or even Emily if we need a woman with us, why her?” 

 “Because she’s vicious. I can tell by the way she glares and holds herself she’s ready to kill every single one of us over a slight disagreement. And the last thing they’d expect is a well spoken gentlewoman from god knows where!” A huge smile was spread across his face, telling Arthur he’d been cooking this up for some time.

 Arthur pushed back from the table with a wince of pain. “I ain’t so sure of that Dutch. There’s a scar on her neck. Too straight to be accidental” he made a slicing motion with his finger across his own neck, driving the point home. “I think someone’s tried to kill her, not just the O’Driscoll’s. What if it distresses her somehow?”

 Dutch’s brows furrowed. He shook his head as a new thought came into his head. “Test her. See how she reacts to violence and convince her to help us” Dutch’s mouth twisted as another thought began to take shape in his mind, his attention turned to where Annabelle was washing clothes in a soapy bucket. He watched her in silence before speaking again. “Get close to her” he whispered. “That way we can learn who and what she is, and also make her trust us” 

 “This don’t feel right” Arthur thought nervously. Dutch was basically telling him to forge a relationship with her just to use her. “She don’t even like me!” Arthur argued, beads of sweat beginning to form between his shoulder blades.

 “Either you or someone else. Levi’s never in camp, John’s too young, and the Callander boys are, well, themselves” he thought for a moment. “Lawrence and Bill are definitely off the cards-” 

 “Fine!” Arthur held up his uninjured hand just to stop him coming out with any more bad suggestions. “But I ain’t gettin too close”

 Dutch stood with a refined grace. He patted Arthur on the shoulder proudly. “You never let me down, Son. I always know I can count on you” His soft words were like a ray of sun in the spring. It warmed Arthur to the bones, making him feel like everything would be alright even for just a moment. 

 “I know, Dutch” he breathed, feeling less weighed down by the guilt of what was to come. “I know” 

Chapter Text

Chapter nine.

Laura.

 The horse Laura had borrowed from camp threw his grey head stubbornly. He wasn’t best pleased about leaving his share of hay for a ride in the rain.

 Lady, Annabelle’s horse, trotted along without any sign of resistance. 

 Laura hunched her shoulders against the rain. It dripped down the neck of her coat and under her oversized shirt, sending trails of icy water down her spine.

 “What I would do to skip over the winter and go straight to spring” Annabelle said, thinking aloud. “I can’t stand the cold” 

 Laura shivered. She wasn’t ready to admit it, but this would be the first winter she'd be living outside. Normally she’d be inside close to a warm hearth, not slumming it in a tent surrounded by strangers.

 It was a little exciting, but the thought of the first snow made her uneasy. 

 They rode out of the trees and down towards Deer Creek. It was the only settlement for miles around, making it a popular destination for weary travellers, cattle herders, and outlaws. 

 After the coach robbery Laura knew for certain the gang she was running with were on the wrong side of the law, but she couldn’t afford to care. As long as they didn’t harm her she would continue not caring. 

 As if spurred on by the promise of a rest in the stables, the horses picked up their pace. Laura held onto the saddle horn nervously. 

 It was a sleepy day meaning the streets were almost completely empty, save for the hitching posts outside the saloon. 

 This wasn’t Laura’s first time in Deer Creek. She’d met her friends here all those weeks ago, they’d shared a drink as she explained her situation before agreeing to take her in. 

 It felt like a lifetime ago.

 The two women left their horses at the stable and headed straight for the general store. Laura fought the instinctive urge to pick up her skirt to avoid the mud, but the thin fabric wasn’t as long as the heavy skirts she was used to wearing so she just let it hang. 

 Annabelle went over the list of things she needed as Laura trailed behind her. They stepped onto the wooden boardwalks in front of the buildings, nearly slipping on the wet boards as they went.

 Miss Grimshaw had been giving Laura a small sum every week. She said it was payment for her work, but Laura didn’t think it was worth the shouting and threats of being slapped.

 It brought back some unwanted memories, that was for sure.

 The general store was wonderfully warm compared to the chill outside. The peeling green wallpaper and the scent of dust on the air felt nostalgic as Laura began gathering up her own supplies. 

 She lingered at the clothing rack nestled in one of the corners. The temptation of clothes that actually fit her was almost too much to resist, but it wasn’t just the coats and shirts Laura longed for. 

 It was a scarf to hide her neck.

 She’d seen Arthur staring at it, his eyes so wide she thought they’d pop out of his skull all together.

 “I’ll have to save up for a few weeks” she thought to herself, pulling the neck of her shirt tighter together.

 Most days she forgot she had it altogether. Only to catch a glimpse of it in the reflection of a mirror.

 She hated it, and she hated the person that had given it to her all those years ago.

*

 The weather, typically, only let up when they returned to camp. 

 Laura was soaked to the skin and wanted nothing more than to peel off the wet layers of fabric and dry off, but there was a fork in the road of her plans.

 Arthur was struggling with saddling his horse, Boadicea Laura had heard him call her, one handed. 

 Annabelle dismounted Lady and tsked at Arthur. “I thought Hosea put you on bed rest” 

 “With respect, Annabelle, I came to the conclusion that if I stay another hour in this camp I was going to rip my hair out” he grunted with the effort of lifting the saddle only to drop it after a few seconds.

 It was painful to watch, and Laura had been tasked with helping him. 

 She dismounted and went to his side. “Here” she lifted the saddle, she recognised it as a cavalry saddle, and hauled it onto Boadicea’s back with some effort.

 “Thank you, Laura” Arthur said, tipping his hat to her politely, before hauling himself into the saddle.

 “You can’t go off on your own” Annabelle piped up. Her face held a stern expression and her fist was on her hip in an authoritative manner. 

 Arthur shook his head. “I’ll be fine. Besides, Dutch wanted me to check on something for him” 

 “You ain’t going alone. Laura, go with him” Annabelle ordered.

 “What?” Laura spun to face her friend, her eyes wide in shock at this betrayal “I have jobs that need doing, Grimshaw’s orders” she said, happy for once the evil old woman had loaded her with jobs for today.

 “I’ll cover for you, don’t worry” Annabelle’s words felt like a slap to the face. “If Dutch ordered it than there ain’t much Susan can do” she said, leading Lady away without another word.

 “How could she do this to me?” Laura felt distressed at being abandoned with Arthur, she didn’t like his wise crackin ways at the best of times.

 But she had no choice now. 

 Fighting the urge to grumble under her breath, Laura returned to her own saddle and followed Arthur down the same track she’d just come from. 

 “If he tries anything I’ll have to defend myself” Laura’s grip tightened on the reins as her anxious imagination began running wild, creating terrifying scenarios that made her heart feel like it would stop just from sheer terror. 

 But then again, she’d survived worse than the likes of Arthur Morgan.

Chapter Text

Chapter ten.

Laura.

 They took the road heading south east to where the trees fell away and the grass became short and coarse.

 It was a hard ride. Arthur and his horse were able to maintain a breakneck speed for an impossible amount of time, leaving Laura, and her already miserable nag, winded.

 He only stopped briefly at a creek to fill up his canteen and water Boadicea before continuing the seemingly endless ride to nowhere. 

 As they rode on, Laura began to feel more anxious with every passing mile. Why was he taking her so far away from camp? What could Dutch possibly need out here? 

 Maybe it was all a lie. Maybe the gang had grown tired of Laura and this was how they were getting rid of her. Oh god, she could see it happening now. Arthur would lead her down a dead end gulley, he’d distract her with something before shooting her in the back, leaving her corpse to be pecked apart by buzzards.

 A sick feeling twisted in her gut as she thought about the other more terrible thing he could do to her.

 She couldn’t go through that. She’d rather die tha-

 “Whoah” Arthur held his good hand up as he drew Boadicea to a stop at the top of a ridge. 

 Laura drew level with him and peered out at the horizon, the breath leaving her lungs in a whoosh of air. 

 It was Beautiful!

 Sandstone mesas, canyons, rivers, and plateaus stretched far as the eye could see. Despite the earlier rain, the land was cast in a golden glow from the afternoon sun that dipped behind the snow capped mountains that loomed further in the distance.

 Never had she ever seen anything like this. 

 “Beautiful, ain’t it?” Arthur said, it wasn’t a question but a statement. 

 Laura looked at him in surprise, she’d never thought he could appreciate the beauty of things, he always seemed to be a little unaware at times. 

 But then she noticed he wasn’t looking at the view. His eyes were trained on an object trundling along the road towards them, it was quite a ways away but even Laura recognised it as a stagecoach.

 “All this open country and they decide to go along unguarded” he gave a low whistle before steering Boadicea off the viewpoint. “Cmon, we don’t have long” 

 But Laura didn’t move. “What are you doing?” 

 “Robbing it. Won’t take five minutes I reckon” he said it like this was the most normal thing in the world. 

 “Are you insane? You’ve only got one arm and you’ve just failed at a robbery just a few days ago!” Laura rushed to keep up with him. “Word would’ve spread about it so there’s probably a guard waiting inside!” 

 Arthur pulled Boadicea to a stop. His brow creased in thought for a moment before he took his hat off as though that would help him develop a plan.

 Finally he gave her a sideways look, causing something to flutter around in her stomach. “Alright then, go out on the road and faint” 

 “What?” Laura nearly fell out of the saddle at that.

 “It’ll be easy. They’ll draw to a stop to investigate and I’ll have the drop on em” he pulled a revolver out of his off hand holster and held it out to her. 

 When she just stared at the weapon in silent horror Arthur sighed dramatically and thrust it at her. “As you’ve just put it, I’ve only got one arm. So no need for a second gun” his expression softened slightly. “I’d feel better if you had it” 

 “I don’t even know how to shoot a gun!” Laura protested feebly. 

 “You don’t need to, just wave it around and make threats. That’s what I do” Arthur said.

 Realising she was at a dead end, Laura swallowed thickly and took the gun. It was heavier than she expected, causing her to nearly drop it at first. She pushed it into the waistband of her skirt for safe keeping. 

 Arthur explained the plan as they rode to the spot he’d scoped out. He was talking quickly, leaving Laura feeling even more confused than before. 

 “Just wait for me to ride in, take what we need, then we’ll go” he finished up. He took the reins of Laura’s horse as she ducked behind a scraggly bush. 

 Her hands were slippery with sweat and her heart was thudding uncomfortably in her chest as she watched him go, leaving her to hold up the stage alone. 

 “If I die because of this man I swear to haunt him for the rest of his days” she promised herself. 

 It wasn’t long till the sound of wheels against the damp earth alerted her to the stagecoach’s approach, making Laura break out into a cold sweat. 

 She went over Arthur’s instructions one more time before taking a steadying breath and staggering out into the middle of the road.

 “H-help me!” She stammered, holding up a shaking hand to catch their attention. 

 The driver pulled the brake lever and brought the horses to a stop. “What’re you doin out here, ma’am?” 

 Laura’s mind went blank. She hadn’t come up with anything to say, and the way the bearded driver's eyes were wandering over her body distracted her in a not good way. She stared blankly at the driver and the armed guard at his side, her mouth dreadfully dry all of a sudden.

 “Faint” Arthur’s words came back to her like a beacon in the night. 

 “I’ve been out here for days, I got turned around and my- and my-“ she made her voice voice trail off before she rolled her eyes back and crumpling dramatically to the ground in a graceless heap. 

 She heard the armed guard climb down from the bench. “Damned women and their nervous dispositions” he muttered under his breath. “What’d’we do, Earl?” He turned Laura onto her back.

 The driver, Earl, spat onto the ground. “Put her in the back” he said. “Don’t take all day about it, there’s somethin off ‘bout this place” 

 Laura felt strong arms hook under her shoulders and start dragging her towards the coach. She fought the urge to shout out in pain when the man pulled her over a particularly sharp rock.

 He was just opening the door when the sound of a horse approaching made him stop. Laura inched an eye open to see a masked Arthur and Boadicea hurtling towards them at full speed. 

 “Get your hands where I can see ‘em!” He barked out, causing the man to drop Laura. She stayed where she was, deciding Arthur deserved to do all the hard work.

 He dismounted Boadicea in a graceful manner and started towards the man nearest Laura. “Step away from the coach!” He shouted, waving his gun wildly.

 The door on the opposite side of the coach opened and closed with a loud bang. Laura watched another man’s black boots as he walked slowly around the stagecoach.

 “You put the gun down, mister” he too was holding a gun. It was aimed at Arthur’s skull and, judging by the man’s unfazed expression, he was ready to use it. 

 The robbery was at a tense standstill as the four men stood in uncomfortable silence. Arthur still pointed his gun at the first stunned armed guard whilst the second, with the black boots, copied his stance. 

 The driver just watched in silent horror.

 “I need to do something!” Laura realised. Acting purely on instinct, she pulled the revolver from her waistband and pulled the hammer back. She only knew to do it from watching John and Mac’s friendly shooting competitions. 

 She aimed it at the man with black boots, her hand was trembling violently. “Back. off” she gritted her teeth to keep them from chattering.

 The man with black boots took one look at her and threw his head back to laugh at the top of his lungs. “There’s three of us and two of you, what’re you goin to d-“

 Her gun kicked back with enough force to break a wrist. She watched numbly as the man dropped to the ground instantly, clutching his side and swearing from the pain. 

 Another gunshot sounded out before the other armed guard hit the ground in a bloody heap, but Laura barely registered it.

 “You stupid bitch!” The man she’d shot snarled at her through the haze. 

 Laura stared at him with wide green eyes. “Oh goodness, I didn’t mean to! My finger slipped!” Panic erupted inside of her as the weight of what she’d done hit her.

 She got to her feet and went towards him only to be met with a gun in her face. He hadn’t dropped his weapon after being shot, and now he was about to take his revenge.

 Only, the side of his skull exploded from Arthur’s bullet before he could even pull the hammer back.

 Nausea roiled in her stomach and her vision blurred in and out of focus as she fought to stay conscious. 

 Arthur came into view and was saying something to her, and judging by the way he was gesticulating rapidly, it was something urgent. 

 But Laura didn’t hear it. She stared at him with a bewildered expression before he grabbed her by the arm and shook her lightly.

 “Are you even listenin?” He asked gruffly.

 Laura gripped her stomach and managed to stagger a few feet away before collapsing to her knees and vomiting. 

 “All your fault! All your fault!” The taunting voices of her past swirled around her head as she retched up the acidic contents of her stomach, making her feel a hundred times worse. 

 She’d killed a man. Well, was partly responsible for killing a man. She’d watched the light leave his eyes in a matter of seconds, she’d seen his brains splattering the side of the stagecoach. 

 Someone touched her shoulder and she looked around to see Arthur. His face was creased with concern at her condition. 

 Laura dragged in deep breaths as she tried to regain her composure. “I’m sorry” she mumbled weakly.

 “It’s alright, it’s never easy the first time” he handed her his canteen as she got into a sitting position, watching her as she took little sips of water.

 She kept looking over to where the men's crumpled bodies lay. There was no sign of the driver.

 “He ran off as soon as your gun went off” Arthur explained, seemingly reading her thoughts. “That’s why I was tellin you to hurry, law will be about soon” 

 “So that’s what he was saying” Laura realised dimly. She took a final sip of water before pushing herself to her unsteady feet. 

 She followed Arthur as he set about breaking the strongbox lock. He smashed it with the butt end of his gun and began rifling through the contents.

 Afterwards, when they’d both collected money from the coach and the dead men, Arthur cut the horses loose and shooed them away.

 “What’s that for?” Laura wondered out loud.

 Arthur shrugged. “They ain’t done no wrong, rather they find their own way into town than be left stuck to the wagon to be eaten” he watched them go before whistling for their own horses to return to them.

 They mounted and rode away without another word, leaving the corpses of the men they’d killed and the abandoned stagecoach for someone else to handle.

 The sun was low in the sky now, and as Laura followed Arthur she began to see him in a different light. She still thought he was insufferable, but she’d also seen a gentler side to him with the horses.

 And a part of herself had enjoyed the outing a little bit, despite the murder, it certainly made a difference to her usual mundane routine of washing and sewing.

 “I could get used to this” 

Chapter Text

Chapter eleven.

Arthur.

 ‘The coach robbery proved more successful than the last.

Aside from a gun being waved in my face and a brief certainty I was about to meet my maker, both me and Miss Sinclair walked out unscathed.

 Though I fear I may have crossed a line again. I put her in a position where her only option was to shoot a man and cause herself great distress. 

 But there was a moment, before the shot, where an eerie calm came over her. 

 She said her finger slipped but I saw her face and there was no shock or horror upon firing the gun, only after when the weight of her actions finally fell onto her shoulders.

 Something tells me she’s had to act without thinking just to survive before, not just with the O’Driscoll’s.

 This woman has been through terrible hardship in her life and I feel powerless knowing she wasn’t protected.

 Makes the task Dutch has given me feel even more wrong’

Chapter Text

Chapter twelve.

Laura.

 The days passed in a blur after the stagecoach robbery. Laura returned to her normal mundane routine, and she and Arthur hadn’t spoken about the man she’d shot.

 In fact they didn’t speak at all. Laura had a feeling he was avoiding her on purpose. Good riddance in her books. 

 The memory of firing that shot into the man’s side kept coming back to Laura whenever she closed her eyes. It was the shot to the head that stayed with her the most, the way his neck had jerked at an unnatural angle from the impact before pieces of his brain and skull hit the side of the coach. 

 She forced herself to cope with it though, she didn’t want to be seen as weak in front of the others. 

 After all, she had seen and been through worse in her life.

 So when the memory became unbearable she threw herself into working outside of camp whenever she could. The close encounter with death also made her feet itch in a strange way that made being cooped up in a camp became torturous.

 So unbearable that Laura all but jumped at the chance to go out on a job involving the Deer Creek bank with Hosea. 

 “I was going to take Levi, but he’s on one of his gallavants” he explained before Laura had even said yes.

 Now Laura tethered the grey nag to the hitching post beside Silver-Dollar outside the general store. Her horse was a sorry sight compared to Hosea’s beloved horse. The saddle on its own was a work of art with elaborate leather work and dark varnish. 

 It was a fine day considering all the bad weather they’d been having.

 Before heading out Hosea had given Laura a black mourning dress and veil to match the black suit he was wearing. As Laura stuffed her own clothes into her saddle bag for later she began to wonder what they were actually doing here. 

 “Take my arm” Hosea said before Laura could ask him what they were even doing. Funnily enough she instinctively obeyed the request with a practiced ease.

 Only this time her skin didn’t crawl. 

 Hosea walked towards the bank at a leisurely pace, occasionally stopping to gaze into a shop window. Laura quickly picked up on the act and started pointing out things of interest.

 “Is this all for the bank?” She whispered softly, not breaking eye contact with the slightly out of season dress in the shop window. 

 Hosea nodded once, his jaw ticking from concentration. “Yes, just exploring our new home before taking my dearest niece to make sure the money has been transferred successfully” his face suddenly fell dramatically. “Such a horrible shame about your husband's death at sea” despite the story being completely fabricated, Hosea made it sound convincing enough.

 He held the heavy oak door to the bank open for her and made a show of scurrying in behind her to catch the clerks attention right away. 

 “Alright my dear Clara, settle yourself down here. Don’t want to exert yourself after such heartache” Hosea barrelled into the role with ease as he guided Laura to a dark green chair against the wall. 

 Laura schooled her face into a somewhat vacant expression, she stared at the blue wallpaper in a way she hoped a mourning widow would gaze. 

 Hosea went straight to the clerk and began unloading a seemingly endless tale of woe involving the fictional Clara. The story stretched from the untimely death of her ‘parents’ all the way to the ‘death’ of her beloved husband.

 The tale took odd turns and flairs that made the clerk gaze at Hosea with an open mouthed stare as he struggled to take all this information in, even Laura found herself looking over to Hosea in bewilderment. 

 “So now we’re here to check if her husband's money has been wired safely. New town and all, trying to get a fresh start after all this grief” Hosea abruptly brought the story to a close and looked at the clerk expectantly. 

 Laura felt the urge to clap at the older man’s impressive act. 

 The clerk blinked himself out of his daze. “I will check right away” he scurried away and disappeared into a back room.

 Hosea took the chair next to Laura, his shoulders falling slightly. “That was harder than it looked” he rubbed his temple rhythmically. 

 “Didn’t look hard at all” Laura chuckled softly. “What's this all for anyway?” She asked.

 He brought his head close to hers and whispered so only she could hear. “Dutch has a plan to rob this place. Now, whenever we do a bank job I always come take a look beforehand” he pointed with his mouth towards where men with guns stood guard at the entrance to the long counter. “Helps me get an idea of how many guards and how many doors are in the place. Oh, and windows” he added like that made any sense. 

 Laura settled into her chair and looked around the place with fresh eyes. She began seeing the opportunities this place offered. There were only four guards in the place meaning the gang wouldn’t have to send too many men. Other than the double doors at the front of the building there was no other way out of here so there’d likely be a gunfight upon exit an-

 “Why am I thinking like this?” Laura stopped herself when she realised she was starting to plan the robbery. She wasn’t an outlaw, she’d be nowhere near this place when the robbery started, she’d be in camp either sewing or doing laundry.

 But she still had to force down a swirl of disappointment that bloomed in her chest at the thought of missing out.

 “Get ready to cry” Hosea whispered to her quietly before rising to meet the sheepish looking clerk. “Is everything in order?” He asked hopefully. 

 The clerk glanced at Laura before returning back to Hosea. “I’m sorry sir, we- we have no record of you or your niece” he swallowed nervously.

 “So that’s what Hosea meant” Laura forced tears into her eyes, a task easier than expected, and buried her face in her hands. 

 “Oh dear, oh no” Hosea crouched to Laura’s level and took on the appearance of consoling her. “It’s quite alright, it’s probably just a delay” his voice cracked artfully.

 He looked over at the clerk making his eyes go wide. “That’s all she has, can’t you check again?” He asked desperately.

 The clerk rubbed the back of his neck, his neat moustache twitching. “I checked everywhere, I- I don’t think the money's coming” he said regretfully. 

 “I better bring this up a notch” Laura began to let her body rack with heavy sobs. It was an act she was all too familiar with, the beatings were less merciless if she made her attackers feel just a smidge of guilt. 

 Hosea helped Laura to her feet. She clung to him and wiped her face with the handkerchief the clerk handed her. “How can it be all gone? How can I go on?” She babbled, feeling hot tears begin to track down her face.

 “It’s quite alright Clara, we’ll find a way. We always do” Hosea began leading her towards the door. People watched in silence as the grief stricken widow clung to her uncle for dear life, they didn’t even recognise Hosea’s face from the wanted posters, they only wondered if their own money was safe at this bank.

 It was raining when they stepped outside. Laura kept up the crying until they’d turned the corner away from the bank. She wiped her face dry, despite the rain, and took a steadying breath.

 Hosea patted her lightly on the arm so she knew it was safe to let go. “That was wonderful!” Hosea said in a way that made Laura’s chest swell with pride. “You had me convinced!” 

 Laura smiled as she felt her cheeks heat. “It was nothing” she kept her eyes downcast. 

 “No, it was excellent. I’ll have to take you on more of these jobs. I used to take Arthur a lot but he hates dressing up and acting” he smiled at the memory. “I suppose you’ll be a good replacement” 

 “Arthur acting. Now that summons an image or two” Laura imagined him wearing a widow's weaves and wailing at the tops of his lungs as Hosea robbed someone blind. 

 They walked past the saloon only to stop when they recognised the horses hitched outside. Boadicea and the Callander boys' horses lifted their heads and whinnied upon seeing Hosea. 

 “Seems the fellers decided on a liquid supper” Hosea thought out loud. He looked at Laura. “Thirsty?” 

 Laura’s mouth twisted. She didn’t really want to face Arthur, not now, but she didn’t want to disappoint Hosea. “Alright, but I need to change” she replied.

 At least changing her clothes would give her some time to plan how she’d handle seeing Arthur again.

Chapter Text

Chapter thirteen.

Laura.

 The saloon was loud and stunk of strong alcohol and old tobacco. Drinkers had to stand elbow to elbow as they drank, occasionally someone would get too close causing a drink to spill and a small argument to break out before sputtering out into tense quiet.

 Working girls waited at the stairs or outside the doors of the ground floor bedrooms, fanning themselves as they watched the men drink themselves into a stupor. 

 The place was dirty and disgusting with the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife, a godless place some would call it, and Laura loved every bit of it. 

 After changing her clothes in a secluded alleyway Laura had found Hosea and together they’d walked into the saloon just as a man was being hauled outside for punching someone. 

 For a moment she just stood and watched the world go by before finding the men they were looking for seated at a circular table. 

 Davey seemed to be on his tenth drink whilst Arthur and Mac were in a heated discussion, Laura didn’t know the nature of it but Arthur kept shaking his head.

 “Evenin fellers!” Hosea called. He slipped into the seat beside Davey and pulled the beer from his hand, he started drinking that same beer without so much as a second thought.

 Arthur rubbed his face. “I’ll get back to you on that” he said to Mac before turning to Hosea. “Bank go well?” He asked.

 “More than well. Miss Sinclair was definitely a help” he said, announcing Laura’s presence.

 The three men all looked over to where Laura awkwardly stood, before Arthur abruptly stood up and pulled his chair out for her. He motioned with his hand for her to sit when she just stared blankly at him.

 “I can’t let him do this for me” she thought as she held her hands up and shook her head. “I’ll stand, thank you” she said politely.

 Arthur shrugged. “This is my round” he said quietly before stalking towards the packed bar. 

 Mac checked the level of drink left in his bottle. “We’ve barely got started” when Davey mumbled something nearly completely incoherent, Mac's brown eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. “I wasn’t talkin ‘bout you” 

 Laura looked over her shoulder to where Arthur had disappeared to. “I don’t think he likes me very much” her voice sounded disappointed for some reason. She didn’t care if he didn’t like her. She knew she didn’t care.

 The bottle halfway to Hosea’s lips froze. He lowered the glass slowly and gave Laura an unreadable look. “I wouldn’t say that. Arthur’s always been a miserable bastard, even when he was a boy” he explained, but there was a tightness to his voice that set Laura on edge. 

 “Go see where our beer is, woman” Davey mumbled before his head slammed onto the table with a loud crash. A few people nearby jumped at the sound. 

 Normally Laura would bristle at his demand, but she wanted to talk to Arthur so she just took her leave and pushed her way through the crowd.

 A few men stepped out of her way, but where there were flowers there was also mud, she learnt that when someone put their foot out to trip her on purpose. Laura managed to catch herself and turned to glare at the man who gave her a leering smile. 

 “Disgusting” Laura shook her head and forced herself to continue on until she found Arthur leaning against the bar, a faraway look in his eyes. 

 Luckily the man next to him took off with one of the working women, giving Laura space to join Arthur.

 “You’ve been avoiding me” she started the conversation quickly in hopes Arthur wouldn’t get the chance to bolt to safety. “Oh, how’s the army by the way?” She added venomously.

 He gave her a sidelong look. “It’s fine. What makes you say that?” His reply was more of a sigh than actual words. 

 “Not only did you all but throw yourself out of that chair to get away from me, but you’ve been avoiding me at camp” she rested her head on her hand, ignoring the jostling behind her. “And don’t pretend it’s nothing, you dragged me out of a dingy cellar without even knowing so much as my name or history” she hissed out, causing Arthur to look away for a moment. 

 “That’s the thing though” he said quietly, his voice a gruff rasp. “I still don’t know your history. So how do I know I can trust you?” 

 Laura stared at him, dumbstruck. If it wasn’t for the man standing so close behind her she could feel his breath she’d likely stumble like a drunk. “That’s- that’s none of your concern” she stammered and returned her gaze to the neat shelf holding bottles of amber liquid behind the bar. 

 Arthur huffed and seemingly joined her in her silent contemplation before sheepishly saying. “I nearly got you killed” 

 Her mouth went dry and she turned to look at him when the man behind her grabbed her backside and pinched hard enough to leave a bruise.

 Laura squealed and spun around only to see the same man that’d tried to trip her from before. She felt Arthur tense at her side. 

 “Get your hands off of me!” She shouted at the man.

 He snickered condescendingly, his eyes bloodshot and his brown beard stinking of drink. “I think I’ll do what I want. Hell, woman with a face like yours should take it as a complime-“ 

 He couldn’t even finish the sentence before Arthur lashed out. He punched the man square in the nose causing blood to spray with a sickening crunch.

 Laura only just managed to get out of the way when the fighting broke out. Arthur’s initial punch had been like a stone dropped into an already too full bucket, causing the tension in the saloon to spill over.

 She watched as Arthur beat her assaulter mercilessly. He managed to drag him towards a table and slammed his head into it repeatedly.

 Someone grabbed her arm and began pulling her towards the back door. Laura managed to turn to see a man she didn’t recognise pulling her along. 

 “No!” A memory lashed at her mind, forcing her to act without thinking.

 She scratched at his face and spat, earning a ground out curse. He slapped her hands away but Laura wasn’t deterred, she just resorted to kicking him harshly in the groin.

 The man let go and doubled up just as a pair of men locked in a brawl barrelled into him, sending him into the floor with a loud thud. 

 “Serves you right!” Laura shouted over the noise. 

 “I’LL KILL EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU!” She heard Mac’s battle cry just as the first shot was fired. It caused some of the less aggressive fighters to break apart and flee out of the building like a flood of mice. 

 Some of the more reckless, or drunk, men stayed and continued on with their brawl, ignoring the danger of being shot.

 Laura managed to find the others in the crowd. Mac was waving his gun about and throwing curses around like they were flowers at a wedding, Hosea was watching the fighting with an amused grin, Davey was still passed out on the table. 

 And Arthur, he was fighting two men at once. Laura watched as he took a punch to the jaw, that caused his head to snap around violently, before grabbing at his attacker's hair and throwing him into the second man. 

 Laura went to rush straight to his side when she saw another man sneaking up behind Arthur and picking up a bottle to smash over his head. Laura was quicker and grabbed the man’s raised arm, using all of her weight to stop the blow.

 “Arthur!” She shouted to get his attention just as the man spun on her and struck her across the face. Hard.

 Laura let go and collapsed against a table. Her vision was blurry and darkening at the edges, but she forced herself to stay conscious. 

 She was dimly aware of a scuffle and raised her head enough to see Arthur punching the man in the liver. 

 “YOU TOUCH HER AGAIN AND I’LL KILL YOU, I SWEAR IT!” Arthur’s voice was thick with rage as he beat the man unconscious. He threw the body to the floor as though it was a sack of rubbish, his lip curled in disgust. 

 Laura let her head fall back against the table and breathed out a sigh of relief that ended with a tear slipping down her smarting cheek. Unwanted memories played in her mind with painful clarity. 

 A beaten body. Screamed insults. Her belly gnawed by painful pangs of hunger. The blood from her throat staining her own hands.

 The memories threatened to overwhelm her when she felt a gentle touch on the arm. 

 “Hey, it’s okay” she opened her bleary eyes to see Arthur’s bloodied and bruised face looking down at her, only this time he didn’t look annoyed by her presence. Concern was etched into every corner of his face, making Laura’s stomach dip in strange ways. 

 She sat up and swayed slightly, causing Arthur to steady her. “That was one hard hit” he said.

 Laura put a hand to her cheek. It felt hot and familiar under her touch. It was most likely pink bordering on red by now. “I’ve had worse” she replied quietly.

 Arthur gave her a questioning look before Hosea suddenly raced outside. “MY SADDLE!” His voice carried in from outside, causing Laura and Arthur to both look around in alarm. 

 “C’mon” Arthur helped Laura to her feet, holding her tight to him. Together they walked around and stepped over knocked out bodies splayed on the ground.

 As they walked Laura was constantly aware of Arthur’s grip on her arm. It was gentle yet firm, causing warmth to spread across her arm. It was pleasant yet strange all at the same time.

 She’d never been handled so gently.

 Hosea stood in the middle of the street, his mouth agape as he stared in the direction of whoever it was that’d wronged him.

 “My saddle!” He repeated, quieter this time. “That good for nothing son of a whore!” 

 Mac spat. “You see who did it?” He asked. He still clutched his revolvers, his knuckles white from gripping so hard.

 “Of course I didn’t see! I was too busy watching your childish outburst!” Hosea shouted, making everyone flinch. 

 He looked to Arthur, ready to chew something out at him, when he saw Laura and stopped himself. “Are you hurt?” His voice was tight with concern.

 Laura was about to Answer but Arthur spoke for her. “Just a scratch. Some bastard put his hands on her”

 “Three bastards put their hands on me” Laura corrected, her voice shaking a little. “They didn’t go unpunished though”

 Silence followed until Hosea cleared his throat awkwardly. “Well, serves them right” he said softly. “I need to track down my saddle” 

 Laura watched Mac’s eyes widen slightly. “You think you’re gonna find it?” He asked in surprise.

 “I have to try, it was a beautiful saddle!” He reasoned. “You, stay in town to collect Davey when he’s sobered up” Hosea gestured towards Mac.

 But Mac shook his head sharply. “Fuck that, I’m going to bed. Damned idiot can bring himself home” 

 An argument was about to unfold between Hosea and Mac before Laura stepped in. “I’ll stay. I’ve got enough money for a room” she said, already pulling away from Arthur to head back inside. 

 “Thank you Laura” Hosea said before hauling himself onto Silver Dollar’s bare back. Laura heard him riding away at speed closely followed by Mac. 

 But Laura wasn’t alone as she stepped back into the saloon. Arthur followed her inside.

 “Aren’t you going home?” She asked, looking at him from over her shoulder. “Please don’t go” a small part inside of herself whispered.

 Luckily Arthur shook his head. “I never finished my drink” 

Chapter Text

Chapter fourteen.

Laura.

 Laura checked Davey’s breathing. He was still alive, but he wouldn’t be waking any time soon. 

 The saloon was a completely different place after the fight had broken out and eventually died down. The quiet was almost deafening as the bartender cleaned up his establishment, occasionally he’d mutter something under his breath but Laura was too tired to listen too closely or care. 

 Arthur hissed as he iced his hand, his teeth bared against the pain. 

 A pang of guilt made Laura’s mouth twist downward. “You shouldn’t have done it” she said. She made sure Davey was propped so if he vomited he wouldn’t choke to death, before she walked over to where Arthur brooded. 

 “It's nothin. Besides, he deserved it” he explained. 

 Laura’s breath seemed to leave her chest. She’d never had anyone defend her from anything in her life, now it’d happened twice in the span of a few days.

 “I think he was just being overly friendly” it was a bitter habit she still carried, making excuses for those that’d wronged her.

 Arthur’s head whipped up and he gave her a horrified look. “Overly friendly? What kind of ‘overly friendly’ person does that?” He sucked in a deep breath to compose himself, his eyes closing briefly. “He assaulted you. No two ways ‘bout it. He thought he could get away with it, but he didn’t” 

 Laura suppressed a shiver. “I suppose you’re right” she murmured quietly. She’d play it off, but deep down it felt like confirmation from an event that’d happened years prior.

 To distract herself from falling into a blind panic she turned her attention to the injuries on Arthur’s face. “Sit down” she ordered, taking the napkin full of ice cubes from him. 

 He didn’t protest, just settled into a rickety chair that’d been pulled away from its table during the fight. Laura pressed the dripping napkin to his cheek, earning a sharp intake of breath from him. 

 “I’m sorry” she said, easing up on the pressure a little. 

 Arthur waved her off. “I’ve had worse” 

 Their eyes locked after he repeated the same words Laura had slurred out after being hit. 

 Laura lowered her gaze, not wanting to go into it again. 

 They stayed like that for a long while. Laura treating his wounds in silence as Arthur watched her like a hawk. She could feel his gaze locked onto her neck, causing her to hunch her shoulders in an attempt to hide the scar.

 The saloon was empty now, the bartender seemingly given up on the battle of trying to clean up tonight, so it was just Laura and Arthur. 

 Well, and a passed out Davey. 

 “I think we got off on the wrong foot” 

 Laura’s mouth twisted downwards at that. “How long did it take you to work that one out?” She said sarcastically, making Arthur flinch. 

 “Probably as soon as you pulled that face and stormed away” he sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging downward. His eyes sparkled with pain as Laura wiped away the blood under his nose.

 “That horse still givin you trouble?” Arthur changed the subject effortlessly, pointing with his chin to the window facing the hitched horses outside. The grey nag was dozing, its face relaxed instead of hateful for once. 

 Laura shrugged. “It’s fine. I’ll save up for my own soon” she grimaced. “I don’t think he likes me very much” 

 Arthur chuckled dryly. “Yeah he’s always been miserable. Dutch used to do a bit of a contest with him. He’d bet on who would get thrown the quickest” his face turned soft with nostalgia, allowing Laura a glimpse into the man behind the dangerous outlaw.

 She wrung out the now dripping cloth into a discarded cup. The water she squeezed out was a rusty red colour from the blood, making her teeth set on edge as a memory flashed before her eyes. 

 She turned away from Arthur and carried the cup away. That’s when the panic set in.

 Blood stained broken glass. Gentle hands staunching the bleeding. The feeling of weightlessness as death took her hand and began leading her away.

 “Laura?” 

 Arthur’s voice dragged her free from the memory, making her realise she’d grabbed the back of a chair and was holding on so tightly her knuckles turned stark white. 

 Beads of sweat slipped down her throat, reminiscent of the hot blood from that fateful night. 

 Arthur stood and came towards her just as Laura steeled herself enough to let go. She straightened up and shook off the chill. 

 “Are you okay?” His voice was gentler than usual, nearly causing Laura to start weeping then and there. 

 But she wasn’t ready to delve into the past. Not yet. And certainly not with him.

 So Laura just put her hand to her middle and pulled a pained expression. “It’s private” she gave him a pointed look, warning him not to ask any more of her. 

 She was a little surprised to see realisation and embarrassment flash across his face, like he knew what she was implying, before he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck “right” he cleared his throat and averted eye contact.

 Another tense silence followed leaving Laura to clean up the cup and check on Davey a second time. She’d known a few drunks in her life, but not one out cold like this before. As she walked across the deserted saloon she did worry Davey had just up and died.

 She was too tired to care right now.

 But before she could even reach the stairs Arthur called out to her. “I’ll make it up to you. The joke I mean” he promised. He tipped his hat at her respectfully. “Goodnight” 

 Laura felt her cheeks warm and lowered her gaze. “Goodnight, Mr Morgan” 

Chapter Text

Chapter fifteen.

Laura.

 The grubby mattress in the saloon felt like one of the most comfortable beds Laura had ever slept on in her life compared to the camping bed she’d had to put up with for the last few months. 

 The weak light creeping in through the window had woken her. She’d slept longer than originally anticipated, but she still buried her head into the plush red pillows and tried to force herself back into sleep again. 

 It was only the sound of loud talking coming from downstairs that spurred her to get up and pull her clothes back on from where she’d left them on the ground last night and step out of the room, only to trip over a small paper bag at the foot of her door.

 Laura picked up the pinstriped bag and inspected the contents. The smell of peppermint hit her before she even saw the hard candy inside. 

 A flush worked its way up her neck. “Arthur” she connected the dots. Either this was his way of making up with her or he must’ve felt sorry about her condition and decided she needed something sweet to distract her from the discomfort. 

 With a soft smile she slipped the candy into her pocket before descending the stairs to see four men.

 The first two being Arthur who was speaking to Dutch in a rather rapid fashion over some steaming coffee. 

 The next two were Hosea and Davey. Laura’s mouth dropped open in surprise when she saw Davey already drinking again, his eyes heavy from the hangover. 

 “I’m tellin you, this is wrong. I don’t want to do this!” Arthur was trying to whisper, but the desperation in his voice was causing him to fail miserably.

 Laura stood behind him and crossed her arms. “What’s wrong?” Her voice felt painfully loud compared to their hushed voices.

 Dutch and Arthur nearly jumped out of their chairs as they spun to face her. Arthur looked away nearly as quickly as he’d made eye contact, whilst an easy smile crept onto Dutch’s sly face. 

 “Miss Sinclair, what a pleasant morning we appear to be having!” He stood and took her hand in his strong grip, guiding her towards a vacant chair. 

 Davey raised his bottle in toast. “Every morning is pleasant when you’ve got booze and whor-“

 “Yes, thank you for that, Davey” Hosea growled out and clipped him across the ear. 

 “Did you get your saddle back?” Laura asked Hosea, remembering his flight last night. She’d gathered the saddle was either very dear to him or very expensive. 

 He sighed sadly. “Bastard got away” he grumbled.

 Dutch patted Hosea’s shoulder in consolation before continuing on. “Grief over a piece of leather aside, I think it’s such a fine morning you and young Arthur should go out for a ride” he said, looking between Laura and Arthur.

 “Laura might not be feelin up to it” Arthur cut in as he blew on the dark liquid before sipping the coffee. He looked tired and disturbed, his hat resting on the table exposing unkempt hair curling around his neck and ears.

 The bag of peppermints in Laura’s pocket seemed to weigh a ton as she thought back to the lie she’d formed in desperation last night. 

 Well, she hadn’t exactly lied about her reasons for discomfort being private. 

 When she realised Dutch was staring expectantly at her she cleared her throat and clasped her hands in front of her. “I could do with being away from Miss Grimshaw for a few hours more” Laura thought she saw Arthur wince, she hated the way it made her chest pinch sadly. 

 She half expected him to verbally protest, but he finished his coffee in silence before getting to his feet and returning his hat to his head. He dusted off his pants causing a staggering amount of dust to dislodge from his movements. It made Laura wonder where he’d spent the night.

 “C’mon” he waved for her to follow him only to be stopped by Hosea.

 “Be careful in Thunder Valley, John and Lawrence thought they saw O’Driscoll’s riding through there the other day” he warned gravely. 

 Davey snorted. “Wouldn’t have to worry if I was goin. I’d tear their heads off one handed” 

 Laura shook off the disturbing thing Davey had said and followed after Arthur. He held the swinging doors of the saloon open for her politely, but he didn’t look at her face, filling her with a sense of unease. 

 That unease was doubled when she spotted Boadicea and a stranger horse at the hitching post. 

 “Dammit!” Laura cursed. “The demon horse has been stolen!” She stared at the hitching post and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Looks like my day off is already over” 

 Arthur came up beside her. “No, he’s back at camp hoggin all the hay again” he explained, making Laura look up in surprise. 

 “What do I ride, then?” She asked curiously.

 He pointed at the skewbald horse currently slurping from the water trough. It was taller than Boadicea, giving it a rather intimidating look.

 Laura looked from the horse to Arthur and back again. “You…. got me a horse?” She was unsure if it was actually hers. Maybe he was just letting her borrow someone else’s horse for the day, but she’d never seen one like this at camp before. 

 He stroked Boadicea. “You needed one” 

 “I was going to buy one myself, you didn’t need to do this” her body was abuzz with a strange feeling. He’d got her a horse! No one had ever gotten her anything like this before. Laura wanted to pull Arthur in for a thankful hug, but she contained herself to hold her hand out for the horse to nuzzle in greeting. “Thank you. I’ll find a way to repay you, I promise” she said with a smile when the horse’s soft nose brushed her hand.

 Arthur just shrugged. “Think of it as a birthday gift” he said as he mounted up. 

 Laura quirked an eyebrow at him. “My birthday’s in June” 

 “Belated then” he answered back.

Chapter Text

Chapter sixteen.

Laura.

 She named the horse Cyril. Laura wasn’t too sure why she’d settled on that name but it suited the calm tempered gelding in a strange way. 

 Cyril had a longer stride than Boadicea and kept nearly leaving her behind on the trail, forcing Laura to bring him to a halt a few times to let Arthur and Boadicea to catch up.

 As they crested a hill flanked by thick pine trees Laura patted her new companion's neck and smiled softly to herself.

 “He treatin you well?” Arthur asked as he came level with Laura. Boadicea pinned her ears when Cyril moved to nuzzle her. 

 “He’s lovely. A pure gentleman” she thought for a moment. “Gentlehorse” 

 Arthur scoffed. “Yeah, I thought he looked too gentlemanly to be hitched to a carriage all day” he spurred Boadicea onward and they continued their ride among the trees, finishing the conversation before Laura could ask what he’d meant. 

 Soft morning sunlight filtered in through the branches casting the forest in an ethereal golden glow. Laura thought it looked like a scene from a child’s fairytale. 

 The sound of birds and running water meant there was a river nearby. It was likely connected to one of the canyons at the place of the coach robbery. 

 For the first since it happened Laura didn’t feel sick to her stomach at the memory of that man’s head exploding. Either that meant she was desensitised or she was too distracted by the prettiness of her surroundings.

 The trees opened up to reveal a green valley ahead of them. Snow capped the highest points bringing a chill down with the wind. 

 “This’ll all be white soon” Arthur said more to himself than Laura. She watched as he pulled a map from his satchel, he traced his finger along a path Laura couldn’t see before folding it and returning it to the satchel. “We’ll take the high road” 

 “What about the O’Driscoll’s?” Laura remembered Hosea’s warning from earlier.

 Arthur’s eyes narrowed briefly as he focused on a point on the horizon. “I’d be more worried about bears or wolves than an O’Driscoll” he spat as though the mere mention of the rival gang was something disgusting. 

 They took the path Arthur had decided on and rode at a brisk pace. The trees thinned out and were replaced by scraggly bushes as they trekked further into the valley.

 But Laura wasn’t focusing on the scenery. Her eyes were drawn to Arthur. His hips, to be precise, as he rode. It made something coil tightly in Laura’s lower belly as she watched the fluidity of his movements. It made her mind wander to a very different place.

 “Get it together!” She shook her head to rid herself of the image she’d created, no matter how pleasant it actually was, and thought of something else to distract herself.

 “I’ve been meaning to ask” Laura piped up timidly. “What is the problem with the O’Driscoll’s? I mean, other than the home invasion and mistreatment of the fairer sex” 

 Arthur scratched the back of his neck as he thought for the right words. “We weren’t always at each other's throats. For a while Dutch and Colm were friendly, in a hostile way” he explained. His left arm hung loosely at his side, the image of calm despite the story he was telling. “Colm and his brother, I don’t even remember his name, got more cruel and Dutch disagreed with it all. An argument broke out and Dutch killed Colm’s brother” 

 Laura’s mouth opened in an O shape at that. The few months she’d known Dutch she always assumed he stayed away from the violence and got the others to do all the dirty work.

 Apparently not. 

 “How? Why?” It was a stupid question, but Arthur didn’t treat it as such. 

 “Colm’s brother hurt Hosea in a run in, hurt him bad, so Dutch lost his temper. I wasn’t there when the fight happened, but when Dutch came home he was covered in blood” Arthur’s voice shook slightly. “I don’t know what we’d of done if we’d lost Hosea that night” 

 Laura chewed the information over. She couldn’t bring herself to imagine the horrible things the O’Driscoll’s had done to cause another gang of outlaws to turn against them.

 “So what- so what happened afterwards?” She stammered, her eyes wide as she stared at the path ahead. 

 “Colm swore revenge and we’ve been fightin ever since” Arthur slowed Boadicea to a stop and pulled the map out again. This time he muttered something to himself before nodding once and steering Boadicea off the trail. “This way” 

 There was an organised chaos to the trail Arthur took this time. There was no real path amongst the trees and bushes but he seemed to know where he was going, so Laura kept behind him to avoid getting lost.

 They rode for a long time before the ground flattened out and they stood on a cliff overlooking a vast forest to the east. 

 “See down there” Arthur leaned over and pointed at a town in the distance. “We’re goin there after the bank job. Dutch says we should split up and get there on our own, but I think Hosea wants that to be a last resort if things go wrong” 

 Laura put a hand to her hip. “I knew Dutch didn’t just send us out here for the scenery!” Laura nearly laughed out loud but settled on changing the subject and giving Arthur a knowing look. “So I’m allowed to be in the know about all of your jobs?” Hosea had been upfront about the bank robbery yesterday, but Laura still felt like they were keeping something important from her.

 Arthur gave her a confused look. “Of course, you’re one of us now” 

 Laura ignored the thrill it sent through her chest about being claimed and went straight into her interrogation. “What were you talking about this morning? What’s a bad idea and why don’t you want to do it?” She saw him stiffen. 

 She’d hit a nerve. 

 He looked away from her, the wind catching stray hair peeking out from underneath his hat. The sun caught his face in just the right places, making Laura stare a little longer than necessary. 

 He was pretty. She’d admit that, despite their initial annoyance with each other.

 “I’ll tell you when you tell me your story” Arthur finally said in a low voice.

 Laura’s hand absentmindedly went to the scar on her throat, her mouth going so dry she reached with her other hand for one of the peppermints Arthur had gotten her. “That’s a story for another time, cowboy” she breathed, trying to brush off his request without looking too distressed. 

 She expected Arthur to react with hostility to her dismissal, it was a reaction she was most used to, but he just shrugged and turned back the way they’d come. 

 “We better head back, I’m sure Susan’s been missin you” he added in a lighthearted way, all the tension from their conversation dashed away. 

 Laura breathed a sigh of relief and spurred Cyril to follow obediently. “I’m sure that woman’s going to be the death of me” she laughed softly.

*

 The ride back towards Deer Creek was full of laughter and happy conversation as they trotted down the trail. Arthur confided he adored dogs and wanted his own someday, giving Laura a rough idea of how she’d repay him for the horse when she got the chance. 
 All in all it was peaceful. Laura had never felt so at ease with another person before, it was strange yet familiar in a way. She liked being with Arthur and she hoped he felt the same way, she’d probably die if he didn’t.

 This happiness continued on until they saw them.

 On the road below them Arthur and Laura saw three O’Driscoll riders. They were riding at a frantic gallop, the man in the lead shouting orders as they approached Deer Creek.

 Laura shivered when she recognised the green scarves and sashes on their hats. 

 “John was right” Arthur grimaced, his jaw clenched in anger. “Why would they be here?” He wondered aloud, making Laura suddenly go very cold. 

 “Would they be looking for me?” 

 Arthur’s eyes widened as he took that in. “It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve stolen somethin from them. They don’t like when we do that” he meant Laura in that respect. He gripped the reins. “They won’t hurt you again, not on my watch” 

 Something warm and pleasant uncoiled in Laura’s belly when he said that, making her briefly forget the danger she was in. “Promise?” Her voice was barely audible.

 Arthur’s gaze softened slightly. “I promise”

Chapter Text

Chapter seventeen.

Arthur.

 Rain pattered loudly against the roof of Arthur’s tent. He stared up at the grey fabric from his bed, hands clasped on his stomach as he thought about Laura.

 He’d rescued her from the O’Driscoll’s, he’d pulled her into this life. Dutch may have forced them together in an attempt to use Laura’s hurt as a weapon, but Arthur was beginning to feel things that were real now. Not emotions a part of Dutch’s plan. 

 Things he hadn’t felt since Mary or-

 “Stop it, you fool” Arthur dashed the tears out of his eyes before they could break free and trickle down his cheeks. The past was in the past, he couldn’t let himself be weighed down by it forever. 

 But why was it so hard? 

 Everyone was haunted by demons one way or another. John still becomes nervous if he’s left alone, Hosea occasionally weeps for Bessie, and Laura herself stiffens at any mention of her past. 

 Whatever had happened to her was both intriguing and upsetting to Arthur. Despite her hard edges she has the makings of a sweet woman, so what had happened to make her the way she is?

 He sat up with a grunt and swiped his journal off of the table. He rested his back against the hard wood of the wagon and flipped open to the last lines he’d wrote. 

 The pencil weighed heavy in Arthur’s hand as he began writing. 

‘I can’t do this. She’s been hurt already and I can’t bring myself to cause her more pain that this life will surely bring. 

Dutch wants me to use her, manipulate her into a weapon much like myself, but I know that’ll only end in a broken heart when she discovers the truth.

Mine or hers, I don’t quite know yet’

 Arthur was about to write some more when someone cleared their throat outside his tent, making him pause. 

 “Yeah?” Arthur called to let whoever it was know they could come in. 

 His mood soured when he saw both Annabelle and John together. “What is it?” He asked irritably. 

 John made himself at home and took the chair whilst Annabelle stood politely to the side. “What’s goin on with you?” John started. “You’ve been actin like a bear with a sore tooth since checkin out Last Chance with Sinclair. Was she immune to your manly charms?” He waggled his eyebrows at Arthur prompting Annabelle to slap him on the arm. 

 “I’m fine!” Arthur snapped. He didn’t know where John and the others had gotten the idea that he only saw Laura as an object to sleep with but it was tiresome. 

 She certainly wasn’t an object.

 “We’re just curious, and concerned” she mentioned concern as an afterthought when Arthur gave her a tired look. “Did you two argue again?”

 Seeing that neither Annabelle or John were going to leave without an answer Arthur sighed and closed his eyes as he spoke. “Saw some O’Driscoll’s” he said bluntly.

 “And?” Annabelle’s tone made Arthur start, prompting her to add some context. “Arthur Morgan, I’ve known you for five years and in that time I’ve never seen you worried about some rival gang, let alone an O’Driscoll” 

 John chuckled. “You goin soft, old man?” 

 “I ain’t old!” Arthur snapped. He had half a mind to give him a smack around the head, but they weren’t young anymore and Arthur couldn’t trust himself to stop at just a smack. 

 “So what is it?” Annabelle crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows. One of the reasons she’d caught Dutch’s eye wasn’t just because she was beautiful but because she had admirable determination. 

 That’s how Dutch had put it anyway. 

 Realising he had no other option, Arthur finally spoke. “Im worried ‘bout the O’Driscoll’s because they’re too close to camp right now. And, Laura’s frightened of them” it wasn’t the whole truth but it was better than nothing. “I’m worried they’re gonna try and take her back, she was technically their score that we stole. Again” 

 Annabelle crept over and sat next to him on his bed, causing it to creak slightly, and gave him a long look. “Dutch wouldn’t let that happen, I know he wouldn’t” she said softly. “Right, John?” 

 John shrugged. “I don’t know. Hosea and Grimshaw maybe, but Dutch is a little... disorganised when it comes to us. Yeah he leads the gang, but he doesn’t make the wisest decisions…..” his voice trailed off at the end when he saw Annabelle and Arthur’s judgemental stares.

 “Show some respect” Arthur ground out in a low voice. 

 Thinking better of replying, John ducked his head and looked away. Both Arthur and John knew he wouldn’t win an argument involving Dutch, Arthur held him too close to his heart to let anyone talk badly about him. 

 “Going back to what I said, Dutch would never let anything bad happen to us” Annabelle continued confidently. “Laura’s as safe here as any of us are. You worry too much” 

 The sound of the rain grew heavier, giving a sense of finality to what Annabelle had just said. She was right and there was no way to convince her otherwise. 

 And Arthur trusted her, despite his worries.

 “She goin on the bank job?” John asked after a while.

 Anxiety twisted in Arthur’s stomach at the mention of the bank job. He had a bad feeling about it, like Hosea’s saddle being stolen and seeing those O’Driscoll’s were a bad omen, but he couldn’t afford to unsettle anyone. “I think so. She went with Hosea to scope the place out and he said she would be useful” 

 John gave a slow skeptical nod as Annabelle gave a more enthusiastic one. 

 “That girls wasted on laundry duties anyway” she said as she got to her feet. Annabelle brushed off her skirt and parted the flaps of the awning. 

 “And she’s pretty. Real pretty” she added with a wink that fanned the flames of John’s annoying streak.

 He gave Arthur a mischievous grin. “What do you say, Morgan, she on your list of conquests?”

 Before Arthur could bite out a reply, Annabelle dragged John out of the tent by the collar of his shirt. Leaving Arthur to breathe a sigh of agonised relief.

 Left alone in silence Arthur returned to his brooding. The robbery was planned to be at the end of the week, meaning they wouldn’t be in the area long anyway. 

‘Annabelle’s right, I worry too much’

 He jotted down in his journal. He stared at the blank page opposite for a moment and began absentmindedly drawing a face.

 It was a habit of his to draw whatever interested him. Whether it was people, animals, or any of the strange things he encountered in the wilderness, Arthur always reached for the journal after a hard day's riding.

 It was only after he’d finished the eyes that he realised he’d somehow drawn Laura without even thinking about her. 

 The woman was haunting in a way.

Chapter Text

Chapter eighteen.

Laura.

 The tense atmosphere in camp was thick enough to cut with a knife. 

 The bank robbery was at the front of everyone’s minds. The conversation around the camp fire consisted of plans and different strategies for the day. Levi thought going in loud was the right way, but that idea wasn’t very popular among the gang.

 “You go in quiet and leave quick” Hosea said when an argument began to break out.

 Laura had started to notice it was always Levi that started the arguments in camp. Aided by Mac and Bill the trio seemed to thrive on misery, constantly prodding and encouraging others to have needless fights.

 And there was something off about Levi.

 He was never in camp and his hostility towards the others was uncalled for. He also made Laura’s stomach turn. 

 Occasionally he’d try and speak to her only for Laura to dismiss him and get as far away from him as possible.

 Levi was higher on the hating list than Arthur, that was for sure. 

 What didn’t help the situation was that the weather had taken a violent turn. Changing from rain to flurries of thick snow that were sure to become blizzards in the coming weeks. Hosea said so. 

 To avoid the hostility in camp Laura found herself going out and about more often. That is when she wasn’t doing one of the seemingly endless chores dished out by Miss Grimshaw. Because of her outings Laura had had to adapt her clothing to a life on horseback. She wore spurs everywhere and had stolen a buttoned riding skirt from a stagecoach. She also kept a brown wide brim hat on her head at all times, copying the men in camp.

 But the working change was frowned upon by Susan.

 “Just because you’re heading out with the men now doesn’t mean you can shirk your duties, dearie” Susan had said in her usual venomous way when Laura had headed towards her tent after the scouting mission with Arthur.

 It was a clear warning. No matter what Laura did she was still one of Grimshaw’s girls at the end of the day. 

 It was on one of her precious days off from working when she found him.

 He still had the skinny lanky build of an older puppy. He was nosing through the garbage behind the general store, his light orange fur speckled with snowflakes and dirt.

 “Hey, boy” Laura called softly from the alleyway. She crouched down to his level in an attempt to look less intimidating. “What are you doing back here?” 

 The dog raised his head and wagged his tail nervously at her. He whined and crept forward to sniff her hand before timidly licking her fingers. 

 Laura smiled. Using some of her money she bought a length of rope and a cut of meat for the dog. As he ate the meat she looped the rope around his neck as a makeshift leash.

 “I know someone who’d love you” she said as she led him away from the garbage dump. 

*

 Arthur and Lawrence were sitting at the scout campfire drinking coffee in companionable silence when Laura returned to camp with her prize. The snow had let up on the ride home, turning the white mounds into slushy piles.

 As always when she approached Arthur she took him by surprise at first. But instead of his usual awkwardness that followed, this time his face softened into an expression she barely recognised.

 His eyes were cloudy and there was a relaxed set to his face that made Laura feel suddenly shy.

 But the moment passed when Arthur spotted the skinny dog at her legs.

 “Who’s that?” He was on his feet before Lawrence had even looked over. Arthur knelt down to meet the dog who was now wagging his tail enthusiastically at the attention.

 Laura shook herself free from the stupor and quickly stroked the dog between the ears. “Not too sure yet, found him behind the general store” she suppressed a chuckle when the dog put its paws on Arthur’s chest and pushed him down to the wet ground. 

 Lawrence grimaced. “He’s filthy” he said and stepped back to avoid being hit by the dog's wagging tail.

 “Well then Arthur will have to give him a wash and a brush” Laura untied the rope to give the dog free reign. “Considering he’s his dog now” 

 This caused Arthur to pause his fuss making. He gave Laura a wide eyed look. “You got him for me?” 

 Laura shrugged. “I owe you. And I’m more of a cat person” the happy swell in her chest increased when Arthur grinned happily and straightened up.

 The dog looked up at him expectantly as Arthur wrung his hands in an nervous fashion. “Thank you, I- I’ve always wanted a dog” his throat worked that told Laura he wanted to say more, but the words wouldn’t form properly.

 So she just gave him one of her kind smiles and dipped her head in acknowledgment. “Don’t mention it” 

 Silence thick with things unsaid fell upon the group as Laura and Arthur continued gazing at each other. Lawrence kept looking between them before eventually rolling his eyes and walking off with a groan. 

 The dog stayed where he was, already loyal to Arthur. 

 When the silence had gone on for long enough Laura cleared her throat. “Any name ideas?” She asked awkwardly. 

 Arthur coughed, his breath coming out in billows of smoke from the cold air. “Not sure, it’s gotta sound right for him though” the dog licked Arthur’s hand, the weak winter sun turning his red fur a deep copper colour. 

 “How about Copper?” Laura said as soon as she noticed the dogs colouring. 

 His ears pricked up at that.

 Arthur smiled again. “Yeah, Copper. It suits him” he looked down at the dog, Copper. “What do you think, Copper?” 

 Copper barked in what Laura took as agreement and began circling Arthur’s legs, excitedly prancing around in the slushy snow. 

 As Laura watched the two get more acquainted with each other she thought about the way Arthur’s face had looked upon seeing her walking towards him. 

 All her life she’d only know people to look at her with anger or loathing, not anything as gentle or warm as all the ways Arthur looked at her. 

 When Arthur had thanked her for Copper, a small desperate part of herself had wanted him to hug her. It was a longing she’d never felt before, but it had felt so strong it’d nearly taken her breath away. 

 It was a strange and powerful drug that followed her all the way to the day of the bank robbery. 

Chapter Text

Chapter nineteen.

Laura.

 “It’s going to snow today. Hard” 

 Laura swallowed nervously at Bill’s pessimistic words. The sky had turned almost black with snow clouds. Emily muttered something about it being a bad omen, making Laura feel even worse.

 All morning the gang had been wound as tight as a bowstring in preparation for the coming robbery. Dutch says the score would be enough to see them through the winter and into the late spring. 

 Hosea said not to hold their breaths.

 The night before, the gang had come up with the strategy for the robbery and different exit plans. 

 Laura and Lawrence would go into the bank first and cause a scene, by any means necessary Dutch had said, before the others, Arthur, John, Bill, Mac, Davey, and Levi, would charge into the bank and begin the robbery. They’d bring some dynamite in case the clerk wasn’t feeling ‘charitable’ but the plan for the safes was just having the clerk unlock them. “It’s quieter. Law won’t come down on us straight away” Hosea had explained.

 All the while Annabelle would stand on the street corner and watch out for the law. She’d give a long sharp whistle as a warning when trouble was brewing.

 After taking what they could it was a split between making a mad dash for Last Chance before the law caught wind of the robbery or, if it all went wrong, they’d split up in pairs and head into the wilderness for a few days. Just until the heat died down. 

 As Laura adjusted the sleeves on the black fur lined coat Hosea had stolen for her, she watched as the rest of the gang packed up for the journey. 

 “If this all goes wrong we might as well be dead” she thought sombrely. 

 Copper bounded over to her with an overexcited bark and dropped a stick at her feet, his excited paw stamping causing a smile to spread across Laura’s tense face. 

 Since finding Copper he and Arthur had been practically inseparable. It made Laura glad to know she’d made Arthur happy with a gift like this. 

 No wonder Arthur had been nearly beside himself with worry this morning when he’d decided to leave Copper with the gang for his own safety. 

 As she bent down to pick up the stick someone touched Laura’s arm, pulling her out of her daydreaming. Laura only just managed to stop herself from frowning when she recognised Levi. 

 “Nearly time to go” he said in his usual slimey way. He gave her a leering look that trailed down to her neck, making Laura fasten the topmost button of her coat. 

 “I know” she said stiffly. She hated that he reminded her of a certain man from so long ago. She threw the stick for Copper who chased after it, barking in delight. 

 Laura walked to where Emily, Karen, and Tilly were loading their belongings into a wagon. 

 Karen smiled when she saw Laura. “There she is, luckiest girl in the gang!” She called, making Laura blush. 

 “What makes you say that?” She asked as Karen threw an arm around her neck in a display of affection that Laura was completely unfamiliar with.

 “You’ve been on the rob multiple times and now you’re doing a bank job, I would kill for that kind of action!” Karen ducked her head closer to Laura’s ear, holding her hand over her mouth to muffle her words from the others. “You sure I can’t kill Levi and take his place?” She whispered conspiratorially. 

 “No one’s gettin killed, Miss Jones!” The women, and girl, all looked around in horror upon hearing Miss Grimshaw’s gruff voice. But for once her usual fierce expression had been replaced with one that looked like weariness.

 It made Laura feel a little sorry for the woman. 

 “Miss Sinclair, you’ll be needing this” Miss Grimshaw held out a wood handled hunting knife and revolver to Laura. “If things go sideways you’ll need to kill a man, again, that I can guarantee”

 Laura remembered the man’s head exploding on the coach robbery, it made her stomach clench painfully as she took the gifts. “Thank you” was all she managed to say before Miss Grimshaw was barking orders at the others again. 

 “Everybody, mount up!” Dutch’s booming voice called everyone to their horses. Laura waved over her shoulder to her friends before joining the men, and Annabelle, at the hitching posts.

 Everything was moving very quickly, almost too quickly. As Laura climbed into Cyril’s saddle she took one last long look around the forest camp. It would be the last time she ever saw this place and it pained her.

 This place marked the turning point in her life. She’d never been a shrinking violet, but in the presence of all these people she’d had to peel back a new layer of herself just to survive.

 And she’d never felt so alive.

 “This is it, gentlemen!. And ladies” Dutch added as an afterthought with a nod to Laura and Annabelle. “This score is all we need to see us through for a few months, after that we’ll be cozy up in our tents for the rest of the winter!” This provoked a cheer from the mounted posse. 

 Laura looked over at Arthur. He returned the gaze and threw a warm smile at her.

 “Mr Morgan, I trust you can lead these fine men into town” Dutch said to Arthur.

 He tipped his hat. “You know you can, Dutch” 

 Dutch gave Arthur a warm look and patted him on the leg. “Alright then, we’ll meet you all in Last Chance. Now go get us some money!” As Dutch finished his speech Arthur spurred Boadicea to rear up before tearing off at a gallop, closely followed by the rest of the posse.

 Laura put her head down as they tore through the trees towards the road, her heart beating wildly in her ears as she prepared herself for whatever came next.

Chapter Text

Chapter twenty.

Laura.

 Snow fell softly onto Deer Creek, turning the horizon into a vast nothingness of flurries of white powder.

 The gang rode at a breakneck speed the whole way there, only slowing as they crossed over into the town to avoid raising too many suspicions.

 “I’ve got a bad feelin” John said quietly. He was riding behind Laura with Mac by his side.

 “Probably Pearson’s stew workin its magic again” Mac replied with a humorous edge. 

 The town was quiet as they turned onto the main street of Deer Creek. Annabelle broke away from the posse and disappeared down a side street to take her place as the lookout. 

 Only a few horses were hitched outside the shops. A good thing really, meant there would be less witnesses. 

 Arthur led the posse to the side of the bank where they dismounted. They didn’t hitch the horses to make their exit quicker and easier.

 “Right” Arthur said in a low voice, forcing everyone to huddle closer. “When me and the Callander’s start emptying the safe we gotta move quick. Snows comin in and we gotta get on the road before the law get onto us” he pulled his balaclava up over his nose, prompting everyone else to do the same.

 Except Laura and Lawrence. They straightened up and walked towards the front of the bank in the calmest way possible. The snow wasn’t as thick on the boardwalk, but the wood was slippery causing Laura to nearly slip over once or twice.

 “You ready, Sinclair?” Lawrence asked. 

 Laura nodded once before throwing the double doors open and running into the bank and screaming at the top of her lungs. 

 “THEY’RE ALL DEAD!” She wailed. The few people in the bank spun around to face her, their eyes wide in horror. 

 Lawrence followed after her and tried to put a consoling hand on her shoulder. “Now now, Elizabeth, it’s just one of your episodes. No one’s dead” he said softly, the image of a caring brother. 

 Remembering the routine she and Lawrence had practiced last night, Laura pushed him off of her into a couple standing near the window. “GET OFF OF ME. YOU KILLED THEM!” She threw herself at a man wearing a bowler hat and held onto his arm for dear life. “You have to believe me, the voices told me so!” 

 The man pulled away, prompting Laura to begin hurling insults at everyone. A guard approached to try and subdue her only to be hit in the face by her flailing arm.

 “Stay away!” She spat.

 All eyes were on her and Lawrence as they acted out the bizarre situation. After a few more moments of wailing and fighting, Laura and Lawrence pulled their guns from their waistbands and aimed at the guards in the bank.

 “Get your hands where I can see them!” Lawrence shouted, alerting the gang outside it was time. 

 The doors flung open with a loud bang as Arthur led the others inside. People taken by surprise backed away with shouts and screams of horror.

 “Mr M, get the clerk!” Arthur ordered John. He cocked his gun and aimed at the guard closest to Laura. “Mr W, Mr D get these fellers hands tied” he barked at Bill and Lawrence.

 Laura watched as the gang worked like a well oiled machine, using a practiced ease to everything. John dragged the clerk out of the back by the collar of his shirt, depositing him in front of Arthur.

 “Get the safes open, now!” Arthur’s voice was low with warning, sending a chill down Laura’s spine. 

 The clerk was shaking like a leaf as he began babbling out excuses. “I- I can’t. I’ll lose my job!” He cried, his beady eyes squinting. 

 Laura’s jaw clenched. “You’ll lose more than your job!” She snapped unexpectedly, but Arthur nodded in agreement so a warm feeling of pride began to spread throughout her body. 

 When the clerk hesitated, Laura kicked him in the jaw, sending him sprawling across the floor. Onlookers shuffled to get away as the clerk's nose began to bleed onto the floor.

 “Now!” Arthur shouted.

 Finally seeing some sense, the clerk pushed himself up and staggered towards the gated off area. His hands shook as he unlocked the gate to let Arthur and the Callander brothers into the safe room. 

 Laura, Levi, Lawrence, and John stood watch over the hostages. Laura liked the way they avoided her eye as she surveyed them, it made her feel dangerous. 

 Like she was strong.

 “If only they knew”  

 Something moved outside the window, casting a moving shadow inside the bank. Laura watched as more shadows passed by the window. She narrowed her eyes and saw star shaped badges glinting on their lapels. 

 Gathering up her skirt, Laura spun on her heel and jogged across the foyer, causing the hostages to scatter slightly. “There’s something going on out there!” Laura called as she raced into the back. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the clerk on the ground, blood pooling out of a wound on his head. 

 Davey turned around, a saddlebag full of money in his hands. “Right. Let’s start movin boy’s!” He said to Arthur and Mac who started clawing the money out with even more urgency. 

 Despite the shock of seeing the clerk’s injury, Laura squatted down and began helping the three men as the lawmen outside began shouting for their immediate surrender. 

 “That was damn quick!” Mac growled under his breath, giving Davey and Arthur a knowing look. 

 “You think someone talked?” Davey shot back over his shoulder. The bag of money in his hands sagged at the seams from the weight of the paper and coins inside. 

 Mac shrugged. “I don’t know” his gaze slid towards Laura, making icy claws of anxiety grip her stomach. “You tell me” 

 The atmosphere in the safe room became tense with Mac’s clear accusation. 

 “Don’t be ridiculous” Laura’s voice was tight, her throat closing up from fear. “I would never” 

 “Prove it, Sinclair” Mac bit out. His face was a mask of anger, making the room feel smaller than it actually was. Laura wanted to get away from him and the chaos outside.

 Arthur flipped the flap of his saddlebag closed and gave Mac a hard shove in the shoulder. “Shut your mouth! We’ll get to the bottom of this after we’ve gotten away from this hellhole!” He ordered just as the first round of shots started firing. 

 The group hefted their load. They left the clerk on the floor, there was no need to kill an innocent today, and charged out of the safe room. The first thing they saw was the windows shattering in a rain of glass as the bullets burst through. The hostages held onto each other and screamed from their places on the floor.

 Laura dropped down just as a bullet hit the wall behind where she’d just been standing. 

 “We gotta get outta here!” Levi shouted over the deafening sound. He was crouched behind the counter, reloading his repeater with practiced ease. “Where the hell is Annabelle?” 

 The shooting slowed down as the lawmen began reloading before it picked up again with the same level of violence. 

 “I’m thinkin!” Arthur replied, his eyes narrowed in concentration. He was closest to the window so every now and then, when there was a break in the shooting, he’d peer through the shattered glass to get a glimpse of the outside world.

 Laura stayed low to the ground and shuffled towards the double doors at the front of the building. Her heart felt like a whole herd of wild horses galloping. “Annabelle should’ve warned us” she was concerned for her friend, but the volley of bullets raining down on the bank was the biggest concern at the moment. 
 She chanced a peek out of the windows, trying to spot an all too familiar face amongst the law. It felt a little inappropriate to breathe a sigh of relief when the man she feared wasn't there.

 “Come out with your hands up!” One of the men outside yelled, his voice breaking a little. 

 Davey spat. “Give us a chance then, you bastards!” 

 The hostages in the bank held onto each other. “We're innocent!” A woman screamed. 

 This caused the shooting to cease as the lawmen realised there were civilians inside. Laura knew they didn’t want the papers tomorrow to tell of the law shooting innocents instead of outlaws. 

 It was this knowing that made her eyes widen with realisation. 

 “John, do you still have that dynamite?” Her voice was a hoarse whisper to avoid giving away her plan to the men outside. 

 When John nodded stiffly Laura crawled on her hands and knees towards the safe room, beckoning the others to follow her. 

 “They’ll be focusing on the front of the building, so we need to make another door” nervous sweat trailed down the side of her face, dripping onto the floor with a soft splat. 

 Levi sneered at her. “And how do we do that?” 

 Laura reached across and opened the satchel at John’s side, revealing the dynamite inside. 

 The men all made a long O sound in unison as it hit them. 

 “Bill, get it rigged. Lawrence and Davey, go make sure no one barges in” Arthur said, his eyes flicking to the men as he said their names. 

 “I’ll help them” Laura moved to follow Lawrence and Davey only to be stopped by Arthur’s hand on her arm. She hated the way his touch felt like an electrical current on her skin.

 “No, I don’t want you gettin hurt” his voice was firm, but Laura couldn’t just stand around whilst everyone else risked their lives.  

 She slowly pried his fingers free and gave his hand a comforting squeeze. “Trust me” 

 Their eyes locked, a whole silent conversation seemingly passing between them, before Arthur reluctantly nodded. “Shoot first” was the last thing he said to her before Laura and the others stepped out of the safe room and began returning fire on the lawmen. 

 Laura shot on instinct. She didn’t aim at anyone in particular, she didn’t want to kill anyone, but she saw one or two men slump forwards with blood blossoming through their clothes following her shots. 

 Her eyes watered with every squeeze of the trigger. In her mind she wasn’t shooting at nameless lawmen in Deer Creek, she was shooting at the man that had been set to ruin her life. 

 She was taking revenge on her past and by god it felt good.

 “Christ, how are you doin this with a corset on?” Lawrence shouted over the roar of gunfire. His voice was strained from exertion, every breath coming out in a ragged gasp.

 Laura didn’t take her eyes off of the lawmen. “You act like this is difficult” she laughed dryly, trying to find humour in the situation.

 “Agh!” Laura spun on her heel at the reply Lawrence cried out. His body slumped against one of screaming hostages, blood sheeting down his front. He dimly touched the blood, his eyes wide in horror, before choking on his own blood. He struggled briefly before going limp.

 “Lawrence!” Laura screamed and moved to get to him when the blast sounded. 

 The whole building shook from the force of it, causing her to stumble and fall flat on her front. 

 “Let’s go!” Davey hooked his arm under Laura’s armpit and went to haul her away. 

 She fought back and reached for Lawrence. “I can’t leave him!” She cried. 

 Davey tightened his grip. “It’s too late for him!” He was right, the light had left Lawrence’s eyes now and he stared blankly at the ceiling, his neck and chest stained by his own blood.

 Laura squeezed her eyes shut against the urge to cry for her friend and let Davey haul her to her feet. She followed him to the safe room in a dreamlike state before the rush of cold air from the newly formed hole in the side of the bank shocked her back to reality.

 Weak daylight filtered in, revealing their horses already waiting for them. 

 She staggered across the rubble and went straight to Cyril who was pawing at the ground in an agitated fashion. 

 “What about Annabelle?” John shouted at Arthur who was wheeling Boadicea around.

 “She might’ve gotten out, I don’t know. All I know is we gotta get out of here!” He held Boadicea back long enough for everyone else to safely stow their money and mount up before letting the mare go at a wild gallop. 

 Laura looked over her shoulder at the mess they’d made. She worried for Annabelle and her heart hurt for Lawrence, but there was nothing she could do for either of them now. 

Chapter Text

Chapter twenty one.

Laura.

 Laura pulled Cyril to a hard stop. They’d been riding for well over an hour now with no stops in a desperate attempt to get away from the pursuing lawmen from Deer Creek. 

 It looked like they were in the clear for now, giving them a little time to rest the horses in a snow laden clearing. 

 Cyril’s flanks and chest were flecked with white foamy sweat, his nostrils flared as he dragged in ragged breaths that wheezed in his lungs. Laura stroked his damp neck tenderly and grimaced. “I’m sorry” she whispered to him. Pain cracked at her chest, but it wasn’t from any physical injury. Watching Lawrence die had been a nasty shock and she desperately wanted to grieve him, but the gang had other ideas.

 “A fuckin stick up, that’s what it was!” John cursed loudly, kicking a tree to vent out his anger and causing some snow to dislodge from the overhead branches. “They was on us too damn quick!” 

 Laura hugged herself to stave off the chill. “There was nothing we could’ve done to prevent this” she said meekly. She felt hostile eyes burning into the back of her skull and turned to see Mac and Levi glaring at her.

 “Little strange everythin starts goin wrong as soon as you show up” Mac hissed hotly. Levi whispered something to him and he nodded in agreement. 

 Laura opened her mouth to defend herself but Arthur stepped in first. “I won’t hear any talk of a rat. Hosea would sniff one out before they could cause any damage” he said firmly. His eyes were red rimmed from exhaustion, but he still held himself proudly. “And I highly doubt it would be Laura if it were” 

 This caused Levi to sneer again. “Really? Prove it. The old man’s gotten slow with age, he ain’t the same sharp blade he used to be. And your little friend is practically a stranger amongst us!” 

 Laura watched Arthur’s eyes flare at the insult to Hosea before Bill held up his hand and shouted for quiet. 

 He was low to the ground, his head tipped to the side like he was listening to the forest.

 “Great, Williamson’s finally cracked” Davey groaned, deadly serious. 

 Bill shot him a fierce look before returning his attention to the forest. Everyone waited with bated breath to see if Bill had truly lost his marbles.

 “I hear horses” he finally said.

 The air rushed from Laura’s lungs. “How can they still be following us?” 

 “It’s the snow, they can follow our tracks” Bill said. Laura had a tendency to forget that Bill had been in the army where he’d been trained to do things like this.

 The group returned to their spent horses. “We’ll split up. Find your own ways to Last Chance but for gods sake make sure you ain’t followed” Arthur said in a low voice. 

 Laura was about to spur Cyril in the opposite direction when Arthur stopped her. “We’d be better off in pairs to watch each other's backs. Laura stay with me” he added quickly. 

 “Pickin 'favourites again, Morgan?” Levi taunted much to the amusement of Mac. 

 As snow began to fall again Arthur’s gaze turned stone cold as he stared down Levi. A silent battle seemed to take place between them before the sound of approaching horses forced the gang to part ways and head into the snowy wilderness.

Chapter Text

Chapter twenty two.

Laura.

 Laura had never been so cold in all her life. It seeped right down to her bones, making her feel stiff and achy as she charged blindly after Arthur.

 At least he seemed to know where he was going in this snowy forest. 

 They’d managed to lose the lawmen a little while ago but every now and then they’d hear shouting, urging them to keep going despite their exhaustion.

 “We’ll find somewhere to hunker down soon. I promise” Arthur called over his shoulder. It was all Laura needed to hear to keep going. 

 The horses struggled in the deeper snow forcing their riders to dismount and lead them on by their reins. 

 Snow fell from the sky in a relentless torrent, nearly blinding Laura as she trailed after Arthur. She was thankful for her fur lined coat, but the cold soon creeped in, chilling her to the point she feared her blood would freeze in her veins.

 They crossed a stream that’d recently frozen over. It cracked loudly as they went, making Laura flinch as she imagined an ice cold plunge.

 Arthur kept checking his map and compass as they went, telling Laura he really did know where he was going despite the seemingly aimless wandering. 

 When they floundered downhill and reached less thick snow they mounted up again. 

 “There’s a pass here then somewhere we can stay just a few more miles away” Arthur looked at Laura and gave her a concerned look from under his hat. “You okay?” He asked.

 She forced a grin onto her frozen face. “Never b-better” her teeth chattered loud enough for anyone close by to hear. “I wish I’d bought that scarf” she thought sorely when an icy breeze buffeted her again.

 When Arthur continued to gaze at her with wide eyes for an extended time, she attempted to give him a perplexed look. “What?” Laura winced when she accidentally bit into her tongue.

 “You look…” he shook his head, thinking better of what he was about to say. “Nothin, you just look cold is all” he said, his voice thick with concern, before snapping the reins and urging Boadicea onward.

 The sun was beginning to sink low in the sky as they trudged onward, casting the snowy forest in oranges and pinks that might’ve been beautiful if not for the cold. The only bright side was that they hadn’t heard any lawmen for a while.

 Laura let go of the reins and blew on her gloved hands in an attempt to get some feeling back to her fingers. When that didn’t work she hit them on her leg a few times. 

 “It feels like my fingers are going to snap off” she shuddered from the combination of that horrible thought and being so damned cold. 

 Snow built up on the horses backs making them look like creatures from a story book. Laura worried they’d be cold but Arthur assured her they’d be okay as long as the snow didn’t start melting into their fur. 

 Laura didn’t trust his knowledge, but she didn’t have a choice. She also had a horrible feeling that they were being followed. She didn’t tell Arthur this fear because the logical part of her brain told her she was likely paranoid from being so cold.

 But the anxiety was still there.

 They broke out of the tree line and trotted alongside a freshly frozen river. The ground was less treacherous here and the pair passed a partially collapsed fence and a sign at a crossroads. It was a good sign, it meant they weren’t in the wilderness any longer. 

 Suddenly Boadicea’s ears pricked up. Her pace accelerated as though she knew where she was going, prompting Cyril to do the same despite his own exhaustion. 

 “Arthur?” Laura called softly, concerned about this sudden change. 

 “It’s okay, we’re nearly there” he called back, setting her at ease again. He too had a hopeful glint in his eye that hadn’t been there before, so Laura had to trust him this time. 

 Sure enough, in the quickly disappearing light, the side of a small cabin appeared on the horizon. A small barn was slouched opposite that Arthur was making a beeline to. Laura followed obediently and dismounted when he did too. 

 She stood in shivering silence as Arthur pushed the doors open and led the horses inside. It wasn’t the warmest place in the world, but it was a damn sight better than outside.

 “Go inside and get a fire goin, I can manage here” Arthur instructed as he took the reins from Laura. 

 She nodded weakly and stepped out into the cold again. Her movements were painfully slow as she crossed over to the cabin. She didn’t know how Arthur had found this place, but she was thankful.

*

 Arthur burst in through the door with a flurry of snowflakes, nearly causing Laura to jump out of her skin. 

 “Christ, you idiot!” She snapped before she could stop herself. He’d scared her and that was embarrassing enough. 

 “Sorry, sheesh” Arthur huffed out irritably as he shed his snow crusted coat and hung it up on a hook beside Laura’s now dripping coat. He winced from the chill and hotfooted over to stand beside Laura at the fire. 

 She’d done well building the fire, especially considering she was used to someone else doing it for her. It blazed in a glorious ball of orange that bathed the interior of the cabin in a warm glow.

 Laura gave a satisfied sigh and rubbed her arms as she looked around the cabin. It was sparsely furnished with only a mismatched couch and arm chair to sit on. A double bed sat in the furthest corner away from the fire, making it an unpleasant place to sleep, with a wardrobe next to it. A moth eaten rug kept the chill off their feet as they warmed up beside the fire.

 But other than a door leading to a bathroom, there were no other rooms. Laura guessed the wall with all the cabinets and sink was the kitchen. 

 “What is this place?” She asked curiously.

 Arthur rubbed the back of his neck and yawned. “Safehouse. I found it before you came to us and decided to keep it. Dutch says we don’t need a safehouse. But, here we are” he raised his eyebrows and shrugged in a ‘told you so’ fashion that caused Laura to huff out a half hearted chuckle. 

 She clenched her teeth and shivered as a chill creeped in under the door. 

 “Cold?” Arthur asked. 

 Laura scoffed. “I’ve just plodded through miles of thick snow with just a fur coat for warmth, of course I’m cold” she replied sharply and instantly regretted it. “I’m sorry. I think I’m just tired” 

 Arthur nodded as he swept his hat off. “I understand. There’s some blankets in the wardrobe, help yourself” he crouched down and warmed his hands by the fire, his mouth set in a grim line. 

 As Laura pulled out blankets that smelt of dust and mildew she looked over her shoulder at Arthur and cleared her throat to catch his attention. “Do you think they’ll find us?” She asked, her voice small with worry.

 “Doubt it. Snow would’ve covered our tracks by now” he replied, but the grim expression on his face didn’t change. Laura guessed he was thinking about Lawrence and poor Annabelle, who they didn’t even know the fate of yet. 

 Leaving her gun and knife on the counter, Laura laid down on the fire warmed rug. It caused her eyes to droop and itch with exhaustion. She rolled up one of the blankets to use as a pillow and tried to get comfy. 

 The floor was warmer than the bed would ever be, but the cold still seeped in. 

 “Oh I’m going to hell anyway” she thought before speaking up. “We should sleep together. On the floor. It would help keep us warm” when Arthur’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, Laura cursed herself and reworded. “Not like that. Just, use each other's body heat” she prayed that Arthur wouldn’t see this as any weirder than it already was and reject her suggestion.

 “Oh, ok then” he said perhaps a little too eagerly.

 The blankets rustled as he crawled under with her. Laura was instantly thankful for her own suggestion, Arthur was a lot warmer than her and it soaked into her body as soon as he was next to her. 

 They both laid flat on their backs staring at the ceiling, the exhaustion they’d both felt somehow non-existent now. Laura turned her head to look at Arthur causing him to do the same. They quickly looked away from each other awkwardly.

 “Jesus Christ, this is worse than when he had no shirt on” she thought back to that night all those long months ago. “God, have I really been in a gang for that long?” she closed her eyes and felt the weariness of it all weighing down on her. 

 She yawned and turned onto her side, facing away from Arthur. “At least I’m away from those people” 

 As her thoughts became more clouded, Laura slipped into a heavy sleep, blissfully unaware of the danger that lurked outside.

Chapter Text

Chapter twenty three.

Arthur.

 The snow didn't let up at all during the night. It piled up against the window panes obscuring everything outside in a swirling mass of whites and light blues.

 Arthur had woken up before Laura and grimaced at the wintery sight. He had enough supplies to last them a few weeks, but the others would begin to worry about them if they delayed their return. 

 And being stuck in a cabin with Laura for a few days would be torturous. 

 When she woke up she didn’t greet him, just pulled a blanket around her and made some coffee. She worked in stony silence as Arthur began to explain their situation, her face becoming stonier as he spoke. 

 “What about the horses?” She asked before taking her first sip of coffee. 

 Arthur sighed. “They’ll be fine, but we have to stay put until the snow settles” he explained. 

 Laura sat back on the armchair, her brows furrowed in thought. “Could be worse” she said quietly, but her mouth was set in mild annoyance. 

 The rest of the day was spent checking the horses, eating, and wasting time from then on. Arthur mostly wrote in his journal to distract himself from the sound of Laura’s incessant sweeping of non existent dirt.

 She did that a lot to keep herself busy, repeating laps around the cabin over already swept ground. It was annoying. 

 The snow seemed to calm down for a few hours after two, making Arthur and Laura hopeful they’d be able to leave soon, before picking up with more violence than before.

 “Damn it all!” Laura snapped upon looking out the window and stalked to her side of the cabin to sulk. 

 Arthur watched as she put her back to the wall and slid to a sitting position. She put her head in her hands, making her black locks cascade over her shoulders in a dark and dazzling waterfall. 

 “Get a hold of yourself” Arthur shook his head to tear his gaze away and returned to his writing.

‘Bank job was a stick up. Lawrence got killed and Annabelle has seemingly dropped off the face of the earth. 

Should’ve listened to Bill’s warning about the snow being a bad omen. Damn us all.

Laying low in that cabin I found a while ago with Laura. The woman’s nearly ripping her hair out from boredom and I feel inclined to join her. Not much to do when the snow is as tall as an older calf. 

I miss Copper. I should’ve brought him with me. I hope he’s safe with the others, he’s a good boy’

*

 Later, when the sun was sinking towards the horizon again, Arthur brought out the whiskey. 

 He’d been saving it for emergencies but tonight was going to be a long, cold, night so that was emergency enough for him. 

 He poured the amber liquid into mismatched cups after a miserable dinner of lukewarm beans and stale bread to try and lift their spirits. He and Laura sat side by side on the couch with their feet up on a log Arthur had dragged inside earlier.

 Laura held her cup to her chest and breathed out a long sigh. “I keep thinking about Lawrence” she whispered. Arthur looked over to see her eyes closed and her lip trembling. “He cried out, he was in pain, I didn’t-“

 “There weren’t nothin any of us could’ve done. He knew the risk this life throws and he took it” Arthur cut her off. He couldn’t have her falling apart otherwise he’d end up joining her. He’d cared deeply for Lawrence, they’d been friends and he’d saved Arthur’s life more times than he cared to mention. 

 So losing him felt more like losing a well loved relative than just a colleague. 

 Laura’s jaw set against her tears, Arthur could tell she wanted to say more, but she just held her cup aloft instead. “To Lawrence” she toasted.

 Arthur tapped his glass against her cup before draining it empty. The whiskey was hot and vicious as it went down, making him grimace and Laura cough.

 “What the hell is that?” She gasped between coughs. 

 Arthur checked the bottle with a scowl. “Hosea swindled a failin whiskey company a few years ago. We have a stockpile of the stuff. We learnt the hard way why it was failin” it was like drinking glass, but it wouldn’t kill you. So Arthur poured himself another cupful. 

 They drank in companionable silence, occasionally broken by hisses and coughs as they choked down the whiskey. 

 Soon enough it began to work its magic and Arthur began to feel a little more relaxed and happy. 

 It was strong stuff that quickly addled their senses so when Arthur, absentmindedly, began humming a popular tune it caused Laura to begin slurring the lyrics. Her voice slowly got louder prompting Arthur to join in. They were halfway through the chorus when Laura suddenly sprang to her feet and began dancing around the cabin, hitting the side of her cup to keep time.

 “What the hell” Arthur thought before joining her in the spinning. 

 It was fun, the most fun Arthur had had in a long time to be precise. He laughed from his belly and laughed some more when Laura tripped on an upturned side of the carpet and fell over, abruptly ending the song. 

 “Go to hell, Morgan” she giggled as she pulled herself back onto the couch. She was breathing heavily from the outburst and let her head fall back against the arm of the chair.

 Arthur sat down next to her with a heavy sigh. Now that the outburst was over he began to feel a little sad.

 “I miss Copper” he said mournfully.

 Laura nodded in agreement. “I miss my cats. They was so sweet” her voice sounded unsteady with both drink and sadness.

 “You have cats?” Arthur swallowed another shot of whiskey. It still felt terrible going down, but not so unbearable now.

 Laura shrugged and readjusted how she sat. She pulled one of her legs up and rested her chin against her knee, a wistful expression in her eyes. “Not anymore. They died years ago, as cats normally do, but they were great company” she touched the scar on her neck absentmindedly, her fingers light on the silvery flesh. “I got them after this” 

 Curiosity flickered to life inside Arthur’s whiskey addled mind. He turned fully to face her with his head resting on the backrest of the chair. “How’d you get it anyway?” 

 Laura suddenly stiffened, her gaze clearing as she took in his question. She pursed her lips and sipped her drink in tense silence, the joy from earlier extinguished fully now.

 “Laura?” 

 She looked at Arthur with big scared eyes, a jarring contrast to just moments ago, they shone with tears as she tried to force the words out. “I can’t talk about it. I never can” she babbled, her voice tight with fear. She was breathing heavily, but not from the dancing or singing.

 Arthur put his cup down, forcing himself to sober up as best he could. “Why, what’s so terrible that it stops you from speakin ‘bout it? We’ve all got a past and the thing with the past is that it’s the past and it can’t hurt you. Not anymore at least” he knew he was rambling, but he was fed up of being in the dark about Laura’s life. 

 He felt too strongly about her to leave her to shoulder the burden of whatever was upsetting her alone. 

 “I’ve known you for” Arthur attempted to count on his fingers before giving up. “Months now. Why don’t you trust me?” 

 This caused Laura’s eyes to suddenly turn fiery. She drew back in a grimace. “Wasn’t I supposed to trust the people that hurt me?” She spat out bitterly, her words edged with hurt. “In this life you have to trust people, so why would the people you’re born trusting even dare to hurt you?” 

 When Arthur’s expression became perplexed as he struggled to comprehend what she was implying, Laura slammed her cup down with enough force to crack it.

 She balled her hands into tight fists as she steeled herself to speak. 

 “My parents, Arthur. My father held me down as my mother tried to slit my throat” 

Chapter Text

Chapter twenty four.

Laura.

 The beginnings of the truth was out now and she couldn’t take it back. She could only watch as an array of shocked emotions passed over Arthur’s face. 

 Laura regretted saying it instantly and she swore to never drink again as long as she lived. 

 “Why?” Arthur’s voice sounded too small, as though it wasn’t his own. 

 Pain clawed its way inside of her chest. The event that she’d kept hidden for fifteen years was about to be put out into the open. A part of her wanted to push Arthur away, denying him the answers to a question he’d rarely asked, but it was too late for cowardice now. As he’d said, we’ve all got a past.
 She couldn’t bear to look at him so she stared blankly at the floor, her mouth suddenly feeling very dry as she sought out the right words to bring her story to life. 

 “I was only thirteen. They were already unkind to me, ever since I was little, but this was the first time they’d tried to kill me” her voice shook slightly. “They’d come home from a party, blind drunk and a couple of hundred dollars down from the poker, I already knew to stay silent and stay away when they were like that, so I stayed in my room” 

 It was so vivid in her memory that it hurt. The feel of the carpet against the back of her neck, her screams turning to gurgles as her own blood filled her throat, the tears she’d shed. 

 Laura dragged in a deep breath to steady herself. “It was my mother that started it. She’d barrelled into my room and was screaming at me, saying it was my fault that she and Pa even felt the need to drink themselves into stupors on regular occasions. As always I stayed silent and just tried to pretend they weren’t there. This time wasn’t the case. Pa dragged me down the stairs by my hair, screaming at me the whole time that if I wanted to stay silent he’d make me silent. We reached the living room downstairs and I heard a glass smash. Now I realise it was the champagne glass my mother had smashed, but back then I imagined someone was smashing through the window to save me” 

 Laura felt Arthur’s hand come to rest next to her leg, a silent invitation for her to take it if she needed, and by god she needed it. She intertwined her fingers with his and gave his hand a light squeeze before continuing.

 “I will spare you the details, but I don’t know how I didn’t die. They were both screaming things at me I didn’t even understand then, and there was so much blood. It got everywhere, it was all over my hands, my chest, my face, it was the last thing I could smell as I blacked out. I thought that was it, but I woke up a few days later with my neck bandaged up and our servant, Annette, stroking my hair. She’d walked in on it happening and intervened. She’d got me to a doctor and nursed me back to health” Laura’s voice hardened as she forced herself to go on. “My parents never apologised, they just dismissed Annette and handed me two fluffy kittens, and never spoke about it again. I was happy with the kittens, but when people ask ‘what happened?’ Multiples times you start to run out of lies to cover for your own family and it begins to wear on you” 

 Arthur traced a circle on the back of her hand with his finger. “What did you do?” His voice was quiet, gentler than she’d ever heard it before.

 “Nothing. I was too scared to do anything, everyone was friends with my parents and they’d alert them if I so much as breathed the wrong way. So I stayed quiet and out of the way, when I could” she thought for a moment. “Well, I did until not too long ago” she straightened up and cleared her throat. This side of the tale wasn’t as painful to her, but it was still difficult to put to words. “They arranged a marriage for me when I turned twenty five. A little late, I know, but I think their drinking made them forget how old I was for a while. His name was Evan, a lawman from the state of Lemoyne from an aristocratic family, and I hated the ground he walked on”

 “Woah” Arthur breathed out in surprise. This was, seemingly, a curveball to his assumptions about her. “You were married?” 

 Laura shook her head. “Not married, no. The wedding kept getting delayed because of the black eyes he gave me, bad public image according to him. He was worse than my parents in a way, he made me feel even smaller and weaker than ever before” she could vividly remember his face as he’d screamed at the top of his lungs at her. “Then one day I couldn't take it anymore. A week before the actual was about to take place wedding, I packed my things and left a note for all of them to find. I ran to the train station in the dead of night and got the first ride to Valentine. Then I took multiple stagecoaches until stopping at Deer Creek, that’s where I met those people that took me in. Now here we are” she finished with a deep breath, suddenly feeling very tired. 

 “Now here we are” Arthur mimicked quietly.

 The fire crackled ominously as the weight of Laura’s words settled over the cabin. 

 Arthur wordlessly poured the last of the whiskey into their abandoned cups. The joyous atmosphere from earlier dashed away entirely now, but at least the weight in Laura’s chest didn’t feel quite as heavy now. It was still there, but it didn’t feel choking anymore. 

 For some reason unknown Laura’s eyes brimmed with tears again and she began to cry freely. “I can’t believe I said all of that” she chastised herself. All her childhood she’d been threatened into silence about her family's behaviour and adulthood had been ruined by the abuse Evan had thrown at her. 

 It was both a relief and torture to speak about it. Like ripping the scab off of a wound.

 She stiffened when she felt Arthur’s arm sliding over her shoulders. Instinct told her to fight back, push him away and protect herself from the harm he was sure to cause, but she couldn’t hold herself up anymore.

 Laura drew both her legs up and curled up against Arthur, letting him pull her closer until she didn’t even feel like a separate body. He whispered soft things to her as she cried, lulling her into a rigid state of calm she was unfamiliar with.

 She didn’t know how long she cried into him before she slipped into a sorrow, and drink, heavy sleep. 

Chapter Text

Chapter twenty five.

Arthur.

 He was going to kill them. That was what Arthur promised himself as he held Laura whilst she slept. 

 After passing out in his arms on the couch, Arthur had brought her to their makeshift bed and tucked her in. He held onto her tightly now, sensing she needed the feeling of security after revealing so much. 

 It must’ve been such a painful secret to hide. He couldn’t even begin to imagine having your own flesh and blood attempt to kill you. 

 It made him feel thankful for the childhood, no matter how rough, he’d had. His mother, what he could remember of her, had been kind and loving towards him whilst his father had been cold. Lyle had made it painfully clear that he’d never wanted a wife or child, he’d only married Beatrice because of pressure from her family when he’d gotten her pregnant. 

 But he’d never tried to kill either of them. Only backhanded comments and the occasional slap.

 What even possessed someone to do that? Arthur had known some sick bastards in his time, but that might be on a whole new level of sick and twisted. He wasn’t even going to let himself think about her former fiancé, if he did he’d probably fall into a blind fury. But if he ever met that spineless excuse of a man he’d make it clear that Laura was protected now. 

 Laura made a noise in her throat and nestled closer to him. She looked so peaceful now, as though she hadn’t just poured her heart out to him. It hurt to witness the peace after the outburst, like she’d trained herself to calm down as quickly as possible to avoid arguments. 

 “I wish I could’ve protected you” Arthur whispered, pulling her closer. He watched her for a long while before yawning and letting his bleary eyes slide shut for the night. 
 He couldn’t let himself get hung up on her past, not now anyway, they had a long day ahead of them tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Chapter twenty six.

Laura.

 The first thing Laura felt when she awoke was a stabbing pain inside her skull and nausea roiling her stomach. She opened her eyes too quickly before slamming them shut with a pained groan. 

 “Idiot” she cursed herself. She’d only ever drunk enough to become hungover on three occasions. Neither of those times had been drinking for pleasure, more to cope than anything else so this time it felt a little strange.

 Flashes of last night came to Laura in mismatched snatches, reminding her of everything she’d revealed to Arthur because of the whiskey. It made her feel ten times worse and she groaned again.

 “Why did I do that? Why did I get a few drinks in and start running my mouth?” She could briefly remember Arthur saying something about Copper followed by her mentioning the cats she’d owned fifteen years ago.

 Laura went to turn onto her back when she realised she was being held tightly around the middle. Her eyes widened and she went very still, trying not to wake Arthur as he snored softly into the back of her neck.

 “Oh dear lord” she squeezed her eyes shut and attempted to calm her racing heart. 

 This was both her dream and her nightmare all coming true at the same time. In the deepest darkest parts of her mind she’d longed to be held like this by him, but it also meant a terrifying truth, that Laura didn’t feel ready to accept yet, that he must feel the same way.

*

 Thankfully the snow wasn’t as deep as yesterday, meaning the pair could at least attempt to head to Last Chance. Arthur didn’t want to worry the gang with their absence by staying out here any longer. 

 So Laura just gave him a wordless nod and began gathering up their things.

 Cyril greeted Laura with a happy whinny when he saw her. He too was restless from being cooped up in a stable, and pawed at the ground in desperation to get going. Completely oblivious to his riders hangover.

 “You okay?” Arthur asked when Laura leaned against the barn door and rubbed her sore face. 

 She blinked forcefully. “Urgh” was the only reply she could muster. “How he can seem perfectly fine after drinking so much is beyond me” she wondered through the fog of her hangover.

 Arthur gave her a small smile. “Yeah I know that feelin. Know it all too well” he stroked Boadicea’s flank with gloved hands. He gave Laura a timid sideways glance. 

 “Laura, about what you told me last night” his voice was quieter than before, treading lightly now. “You didn’t deserve any of that, you hear?” 

 It made her chest feel tight. She looked at the snow on the ground and tried to stop herself from crying again. She was tired, she was so damned tired. Tired from carrying the secret for so long. Tired from making herself be strong for her own survival. Tired of feeling the artificial guilt that’d been planted into her heart.

 Tired from the loneliness it brought. 

 She heard the snow crunch underfoot as Arthur trod over to her. He put his arms around her in an embrace that Laura all but melted into. She nuzzled the crook of his neck and let herself relax, feeling the urge to cry quickly disappearing. 

 They stayed like that for a long while before wordlessly breaking apart and climbing into their saddles for the journey onward. 

 It was a clear day, strangely warm considering the snow they’d just endured, making the ride easier.

 But every now and then they were forced to slow down because of a too deep snow drift, but that didn’t stop them for long. The horses had a spring in their step and were itching to return to the place with a seemingly endless supply of hay and water for them.

 The trail curved upward at a steep incline at one point before leveling out again. Arthur stopped to pull out his map a few times, turning it this way and that as he found the right angle.

 It was a little funny to watch him. If he was struggling with a particularly difficult section he’d jump down from Boadicea’s back and walk in a circle muttering to himself as he traced a path with his finger.

 At one point Laura actually giggled as she watched him, making him look up at her with mock annoyance. 

 “You laughin at me, Miss Sinclair?” He put a hand to his hip and raised his chin at her.

 Laura shrugged with a smile. “No, only air escaping my lungs” she said with a chuckle. Arthur narrowed his eyes at her before stooping down and shaping a handful of snow into a ball. Laura only had a second to dodge the flying snow, laughing harder than she ever had before.

 When they continued their ride Laura made the realisation that she felt completely at ease with Arthur and that’s why she’d freely laughed at him. She knew he wouldn’t take it the wrong way and react with violence, he’d thrown a snowball at her but not in a way to cause her harm.

 It made her feel warm and happy inside.

 until the doubt started to creep in.

 At around three was when it started. they’d stopped on a hill to look down on the lights of Last Chance amongst the trees in the distance. Laura had stood closer than she’d ever dared to before with Arthur. They’d left their horses at the bottom of the hill to let them have a rest and drink from the nearby stream. 

 “We’ll get to town tomorrow. I know where camps gonna be pitched so at least we won’t be scramblin around in the dark for hours” he handed the binoculars to Laura who peered down at the town. She couldn’t see much because of the trees, but it was a relief to see lights after being in the wilderness for so long

 Laura returned his binoculars, letting their hands brush briefly in the exchange. With that moment of contact it was like her mother was shouting at her again. “You stupid girl, you’re too sensitive to survive this world!” It was an echo from the past, making the hair’s on the back of her neck stand on end.

 “So, what’s the plan for tonight?” She managed to choke out around the lump in her throat. “Why did I tell him so much? He must think I’m acting like a child. Oh dear lord he thinks I’m sensitive” she felt the urge to cry stinging at her eyes as she trekked down the slope with Arthur, working their way back to the horses.

 When Arthur reached Boadicea he patted the saddlebag without the money. “Tent” He said bluntly with a smile. 

 Laura’s eyes widened. “Won’t we freeze?” She remembered the bone chilling freeze of riding in the dark and suppressed a shudder. “Stupid girl. Stupid girl” 

 “We’ll keep each other warm, don’t you worry” the sharp intake of breath he took after that sentence told Laura he hadn’t meant to say that part out loud.

 But, it didn’t make her feel any less insecure. He was just being polite to her for now, it wouldn’t last. They’d return to camp and he’d push her away. She’d shared too much last night and the guilt was eating her alive.

 “Well, okay then” Laura sighed, flicking the reins and urging Cyril onward.
 “Laura?” Arthur asked gently, making her stop. 
 She turned to face him, but she didn’t make eye contact with him. If she did she might see loathing in his eyes, and she couldn’t bare to face that emotion again. “Arthur?” Her voice was timid, nearly drowned out by the sound of the stream.

 “Is everythin okay?” He asked, making her wince.

 The lie came easy to her. “I’m fine” but her voice shook enough that Arthur didn’t seem convinced. 
 Luckily he didn’t ask her any more questions. For the rest of the ride, just left her to be consumed by her own swirling thoughts.

Chapter Text

Chapter twenty seven.

Arthur.

 Campfire smoke and cooking meat was sweet in Arthur’s nostrils as he speared a half cooked slice of meat and turned it over. Fat popped and sizzled onto the open flames, making his mouth water a little more with every passing second.

 It’d been a long day's ride after leaving the cabin, but Arthur had enjoyed it more than the average endless trudge. Something in the air had eased between him and Laura, an invisible wall knocked down to make way for something new. 
 But that had only been temporary. After a while she’d become distant again, leaving Arthur wondering if he’d done something wrong.

 “Nearly done” he called over his shoulder into the blue darkness. 

 He heard Laura bid goodnight to the horses tethered under the trees before trudging through the knee deep snow. When he saw her in the firelight he couldn’t help but bite his tongue. She looked awful after last night's drinking, but he didn’t dare mention it to her. 

 She was paler than usual, her hair sticking up at odd angles, and huge bruiselike shadows hung under her green eyes. She plopped down on the ground opposite him, releasing a frustrated sigh that spoke volumes.

 “It’s been a long day, I know” Arthur checked the meat and nodded to himself. He passed Laura’s share onto one of the enamel plates he carried in his satchel at all times. As he handed her the plate their fingers brushed, sending a strange sensation up his arm, it felt like the air before lightning struck the earth.

 The moment lasted longer than it should have before Laura pulled away. 

 Arthur shook himself off and forced himself to concentrate on his own portion. “She probably felt nothin” he told himself, but after the few days they’d had, he highly doubted it now.

 They ate in silence, sharing a cup of black coffee between each other as the fire crackled away in the background of their thoughts. 

 Finally, Laura cleared her throat. “It’s not that” she said, referring to what Arthur had said before they ate. “I’m just….” Her eyes were downcast, doe-like in the darkness.

 “I’m just thinking about last night” 

 There it was, the elephant in the room. Arthur had forced himself not to think about all the terrible things she’d recounted so he wouldn’t be tempted to ask any more questions, worsening the pain for her.

 But now she was the one bringing it up.

 Arthur schooled his expression into that of calmness. “You don’t have to go into it” he said softly.

 But Laura shook her head, her eyes squeezed shut against it. “No. It’s not that” she replied firmly despite her quivering voice. “I think I revealed too much to you and I apologise” 

 Arthur blinked away his surprise. “No, don’t apologise. You needed to get it off your chest before it choked you” 

 “I know, but I could’ve gone about it in a different way” her hands fisted her skirt for comfort. “I’m sorry” 

 The awkward silence returned between them. Arthur scoured the plains of his, mostly empty, mind to find anything useful to say that’d ease her worried. With a smirk he decided on a humorous route. “Look” he grunted. “I like when people overshare, I’m a very nosey person, I like havin somethin to ponder whilst swingin my legs and twirlin my hair like a schoolgirl” 

 This caused a shock of a laugh to escape from Laura. She covered her mouth to stifle it, but Arthur still spotted a smile on her lips. It was good to see her smile again, Arthur liked the way it made her cheeks dimple and the edges of her eyes crinkle.

 Clearing her throat again, she smoothed out her skirt and began fiddling with her braid. She suddenly became shy again and looked up at Arthur from under her lashes. “I guess I’m just not used to this” she admitted.

 Arthur quirked his eyebrow at her, prompting her to speak some more.

 “I got so used to every word I said being taken as aggression that this is strange to me” she sipped the last of the coffee, running her tongue over her lips momentarily. “I think I’m just expecting you to lunge over and start beating me at any given moment” her tone was light as she tried to make light of an awful situation.

 The admission hurt to hear. Arthur flinched and shuffled closer to her, being deliberately slow with his movements to avoid startling her. When he was seated next to her he reached out and took her hands, realising her fingers were cold despite the still warm cup she’d been holding.

 The firelight danced at the edge of his vision as Arthur stared deeply into Laura’s face. “I would never do that. I’m an outlaw, not a monster” he promised.

 Laura’s face held a series of emotions that he couldn’t quite decipher. He sensed she was holding something back, but he didn’t push her to reveal any more. 

 Her grip tightened on his hands. She licked her wind chapped lips again. “I really like talking to you, Arthur” she admitted, her voice soft as she gazed intensely into his eyes. 

 Arthur’s heart did a strange swoop in his chest at that admission. He gave her a half smile, too tired to summon a full one after the day they’d had. “Me too” 

 Something shifted between them again as Laura inched closer to him. “I really like talking to you” 

 Almost acting on its own initiative, Arthur’s mouth crept open. He let himself get closer to Laura, breathing in her subtle scent as his nose brushed lightly against hers. The contact was surprisingly intimate before Laura pulled in a sharp intake of breath and closed the distance between them.

 The snowy surroundings seemed to fade away into the distance as Arthur let himself succumb to the kiss. He practically melted as he wrapped his arms around her warm body, her lips like velvet against his own. 

 No words were spoken again for the duration. They just let themselves get lost in it, forgetting about the robbery and the past that haunted them both. 

 The moment seemed to last a lifetime before the pair broke apart for some air. Arthur huffed out an unsteady chuckle as he watched Laura. Her cheeks were flushed from a combination of the cold air and the kiss they’d shared.

 “Does that convince you I ain’t worried?” Arthur said a little breathlessly. 

 Laura gave him a sly smile. “Not entirely” 

 This caused another bout of kissing to ensue. Arthur was dimly aware of the feeling that he wanted to stay like this forever, damn the gang, and Dutch’s plans, and just go back to the cabin with Laura and carve out a new life with her. But the logical, loyal, part of his brain was stronger, it told him not to get ahead of himself and wait.

 When he felt Laura’s hands travelling down to his belt he stopped her, gently taking her wrists in his hands and guiding her away. 

 She gave him a questioning look that nearly dashed away all of Arthur’s self control. He swallowed thickly. “Not yet” he said, not able to form an explanation for his hesitance. 

 Luckily Laura didn’t pry for anything more. “Alright” she said simply. She didn’t even seem annoyed as she nestled down into his arms and sighed softly. 

 Her eyes were half lidded as they watched the fire in silence together. The song of nighttime played in the distance as animals skittered around their camp, keeping their distance from the orange glow of the fire. 

 Exhaustion dragged at the edges of Arthur’s being. He yawned and stretched, jostling Laura slightly. “I can’t wait to see Copper” he muttered. 

 Laura straightened up, rubbing the small of her back. “I guess if we sleep now it’ll be morning sooner” she used a hand to cover her own yawn. 

 They stocked the fire up with enough wood for a few hours before creeping into the tent for the night. But before Laura ducked under the canvas she suddenly spun around and froze, watching the treeline with wide eyes.

 Arthur was instantly alert, his hand instinctively going to the gun holstered at his hip. “What is it?” He whispered under his breath.

 But after a while of tense watching and waiting, Laura shook herself off, clearing her throat awkwardly. “Nothing, probably just a squirrel” but there was a nervous edge to her voice that made Arthur feel uneasy. 

 When Laura disappeared into the tent Arthur stood guard for a while. He didn’t like how she’d practically jumped out of her skin for seemingly no reason.

 “She’s had a hard time, of course she’d be jumpy” he told himself when nothing materialised in the shadows. As far as he knew they were safe. Wolves wouldn’t investigate the fire, bears were sleeping, and they’d lost the law days ago.

 It was just them and their horses.

Chapter Text

Chapter twenty eight.

Laura.

 She was woken by the fire as it died down. The chill crept into her bones as the light that crept through the canvas began to fade, giving everything a muted orange haze.

 Laura wanted to sleep a little longer, but the bitter chill that crept in was too much. Despite the warmth emanating from Arthur. 

 He had his arms wrapped firmly around Laura’s waist, keeping her body flush with his under the blanket. She turned over enough to check if he was truly asleep only to see his dark lashes making half moon shapes where they rested against his cheeks, his breathing heavy with sleep, and a relaxed set to his face Laura had never seen before.

 It made her a little sad to think of all the stress he carried during the day to the point sleep was his only escape.

 So she decided not to wake him, she’d take it upon herself to tend the fire. 

 When she disentangled herself from his arms she pulled one of the top blankets free and wrapped herself up. 

 The cold outside took her breath away as Laura stepped out of the tent. Snow had fallen again, covering over their tracks from earlier, it groaned loudly underfoot as Laura crossed over to the dying campfire.

 She piled a few logs on and watched the embers slowly take to the wood. 

 “I hope I don’t disappoint him” Laura picked up Arthur’s discarded knife he’d used earlier, turning it over in her hands and letting the familiar weight set her mind at ease. Her mind wandered back to earlier, when that misty glaze had come over Arthur’s eyes and he’d leaned into her advance, his strong arms holding her close as they let passion take over.

 She touched a hand to her lips as she remembered the kisses he’d peppered her with. For the first time in her life she’d wanted to take the kissing further, she hadn’t felt any of the fear or hesitation she’d experienced in the past, just an unyielding urge to do something. 

 But she wouldn’t push Arthur to do anything he wasn’t ready to do. 

 She just hoped she hadn’t come across as too eager.

 Suddenly a branch snapped amongst the trees. The sound was like a gunshot, making Laura instantly alert. 

 Cyril and Boadicea squealed from where they were hitched, the sound high pitched and distressed. Laura slipped the knife into the waistband of her skirt and made her way towards the horses.

 With every step she felt a growing sense of dread building up inside of her chest, making her feel like she was being watched. Laura pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders to stave off the chill.

 Boadicea and Cyril were pulling at their tethers. The whites of their eyes stark in the darkness of the trees. 

 “What’s the matter, hey?” Laura held her hand out for Cyril who briefly bumped it with his nose before returning to his panicked dancing.

 That’s when it occurred to Laura that the forest had fallen eerily silent except for the sound of snow crunching.

 Laura spun around just as the man lunged for her. She didn’t even manage to cry out as she sprang out of his way, causing him to land facedown in the snow.

 “Stand still!” A second man hissed from behind Laura as he grabbed at her shoulder. 

 His fingers felt like claws as he dug them in and dragged her towards him. Laura opened her mouth and dragged in a desperate breath before a grubby hand clamped across her mouth. 

 The man that’d fallen got to his feet and brushed the snow from his clothes, his hat askew on his blonde hair. “Told you this would be easy” he grunted, giving Laura a predatory smile. “Ain’t that right, sweetheart?” 

 The man holding her gave her a tight squeeze. “Think this is the right one this ti-“

 She didn’t let him finish his sentence. Acting purely on instinct, Laura fastened her teeth around her captors finger and bit down with as much force as possible. He released a shout of pain as blood began trickling into Laura’s mouth.

 With her distraction, Laura got her hand free and reached for the knife in her waistband. She moved quickly and rammed the blade into the man’s armpit, causing him to fully release her.

 When she was free, Laura dodged out of the way of the blonde man as he reached for her. She pulled the knife free and lashed out with it, backing her way towards camp.

 The man she’d stabbed spat at her. “Shoulda just cut your throat!” He snapped.

 Laura bared her teeth at him. “You still have time” she mocked. 

 That, it would appear, was the wrong move. The two men advanced on her with terrifying speed, coming from both sides in a seemingly practiced manoeuvre . 

 She should’ve screamed to start with, but it was too late now. She braced herself and blindly slashed with the knife, tearing into someone’s shirt and nicking into thick flesh. 

 But before she could sink the knife any further, the blonde man barrelled into her. He threw her off her feet, causing her to drop the knife in the process. 

 Laura opened her mouth and let out a strangled cry, prompting the blonde to slap her around the face. The blow was terrible and familiar all at once as her mouth filled with her own blood this time. 

 “That’s what you get!” He gripped her by the throat, pinning her in place. 

 It was at that moment that Laura recognised their clothing style. The green sashes and bandanas around their necks brought back memories of being dragged into a cellar. “O’Driscoll’s” she breathed out, her voice choked with fear.

 The man she’d stabbed gave her a look of pride at the mention of his gang. 

 The blonde man ran a finger along her cheek, sending waves of nausea flittering through her stomach. “Pretty thing, ain’t you? He said you was pretty” His voice dripped with slime as he gripped her chin and turned her face towards the second man. “Think anyone would notice if we had a go on her?” His voice huffed out at the end.

 “Who?” Laura wondered, but she wasn’t able to speak because of the fear that squeezed at her lungs. She began to struggle under him, trying to dislodge him with her feet. 

 “You can. I gotta patch myself up first” the second man grumbled. 

 “Let me go!” Laura finally found her voice and screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice louder than the panicked horses. Her mind went to blind animalistic panic as she struggled against him.

 “Stay still, I won’t hurt ya. Not much anyway” his hands roved down her skirt, hiking the fabric up around her waist. He took his weight off of her but hit her a second time so she wouldn’t get up again. 

 Laura closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable when a gunshot rang out amongst the trees. The man on top of her flopped over stone dead, his throat torn open by the bullet.

 The man she’d stabbed didn’t even have time to prepare himself before he too was slumped against a tree. 

 Laura’s breathing was wild as she fought to get the blonde man off of her, he was heavier in death than he had been in life. “Get off of me!” She cried out breathlessly. Her head was swimming from the blow he’d inflicted on her, making her arms feel like lead. 

 Arthur pulled the man off of her and crouched down beside her. Laura wasted no time in throwing herself into his arms. “I thought they was-“

 “I know, I know” Arthur patted her back in a comforting manner. “They’re gone now” 

 Laura swallowed a ragged breath. “They were O’Driscoll’s. I’d recognise them from anywhere” she hadn’t realised she was crying until a hot and salty tear crept down her cheek. “I think someone sent them after me” her voice broke as she remembered their words. 

 With that Arthur held her out at arm’s length, turning to take in the dead men’s appearances. “Well shit” he murmured as his face screwed up a little as he mentally connected the dots. “Guess we should probably hit the road soon” he looked up at the sky. “A few more hours until sunrise” he said more to himself than Laura.

 After he’d soothed the horses, Arthur scooped Laura up and started back towards camp. She watched the bloody figures of her attackers disappear amongst the trees and let herself breathe out her first full breath since the attack. She let her head rest on Arthur’s shoulder and finally succumbed to the dull ache in her skull with visions of shadowy figures closing in on her.