Chapter Text
It had been three days since the gang’s departure from the plains where they had last settled. The promise of a good payout from the more remote ranches on the grasslands had been far too tempting to pass up, and the group had taken up residence in a patch of trees nestled comfortably on a creek not too far from a small stockyard town. The pickings were good for the first couple of weeks, what with the wandering herds of pronghorn antelope and the decently stocked general store in town, but prosperity never seems to last for the Van der Linde Gang.
Now, you rode bundled in your winter coat through the falling snow of the mountains you and the others had fled into, your breath puffing out in front of your reddened nose. The frigid evening air was a stark contrast to the prairie breeze you’d felt just a few nights prior. As the wagons clattered along around you, your mind wandered back to the chaos of the past few days.
The morning itself had been crisp and unassuming, with the sun alighting on the tall, dewy grass and the thin mist that had settled over the creek. You had set about feeding the horses while Pearson worked up a warm breakfast, whistling as he set the pot over the fire to come to a boil. There was a spark of excitement running through the camp that morning, and for good reason. The night previous, Sean and Javier had rode into camp with fire in their eyes. You had heard them speaking excitedly to Dutch over by his tent, the ecstatic jumps in their voices drawing the attentions of Arthur and John nearby. The scraps of their conversation you managed to catch over the drone of the phonograph and the crackling pops from the campfire you and the other women shared told of a particularly successful ranch just to the south by a few miles. Sean had heard rumor in town that the owner had just sold off a sizable head of cattle, and was likely sitting on a nice stack of cash for it. Without much need for persuasion, Dutch had given them his blessing to head out that evening to see what they could find.
The morning before a heist was always full of chatter from everyone, regardless of whether or not they were taking part. Upon finishing your chores, you had wandered over to Arthur’s tent, where he was sitting on his cot and running an oiled rag over the barrel of his shotgun, humming softly to himself. Nearby you could hear Sean talking excitedly about the plan to Bill and Uncle, both of whom barely seemed to listen. When Arthur caught sight of you, he scooted over a bit for you to sit. You were both quiet for a few moments — you had mastered the art of companionable silence, you and him — before you asked when he thought they would be coming back. Dutch had told Arthur to go with the younger gang members and keep them in line, which was more than understandable considering both Sean and John were adamant that they go.
“I’d say we could be back by morning, so long as everything goes smoothly,” Arthur sighed, casting a look of apprehension over towards the chattering irishman across the way. When he looked back at you, he caught the unease in your eyes. “Hey,” he said softly, “don’t worry. The ranch we’re hittin’ is too far from town for the law to be showin’ up at the first sign of trouble. Hell, we’ll be in and out before the owner even figures out what happened.” He gave you a small nudge in the arm, trying to draw you out from your distress.
You knew he wasn’t one to speak so flippantly about a job, no matter how easy it seemed on paper, and that he was just brushing the matter off to make you feel better, but you just couldn’t help but worry anyway. You always did. Despite that, his words had eased your mind a bit.
When sundown came, the boys loaded up and unhitched their horses. Before he could hoist himself up into his saddle, you grabbed Arthur by the arm and made him look you in the eye. This had become common practice between the two of you. You still weren’t quite sure where your relationship stood, but that wouldn’t stop you from tugging him towards you and making him promise to come back safe, and, more importantly, to not do anything stupid.
“I won’t do anything you wouldn’t,” he replied, keeping his voice low as a smirk tugged at his lips. There was a fond sparkle in his eye as he pulled you into a quick hug, just brief enough for no one to notice, at least you hoped. When he was situated on his horse, he looked back down at you as you reached up. Arthur took your hand in his own and squeezed gently, before taking the reins and pulling his horse into a turn. You went to stand by Tilly and Abigail as you all watched them ride away.
You were drawn back to the present by the sound of Dutch’s voice calling out to you and Javier, cutting through the wind that whipped around the wagons. You urged your horse forward to pace alongside the cart manned by Hosea where Dutch perched in the shotgun seat.
“I need you two to go and scout ahead a ways. See if theres any place we can make camp until this storm dies down,” he hollered, giving you a wave to send you off. “Be careful out there! We’re in unfamiliar country. The snow should cover you, but you never know what’s out there.”
With little more instruction needed, you and Javier spurred your horses ahead of the wagon train, waving to the others as you passed. You managed to catch Arthur’s eye as he looked on from his seat next to Charles. He tipped his hat as you rode onwards.
Once the procession was far behind you, you turned to Javier as the two of you galloped ahead. “Hey, so what exactly did happen out on that homestead?” you called over the scarf you had pulled up over your nose. In the chaos of breaking camp and getting out of the countryside before the lawmen could track you, you hadn’t gotten the details of the botched heist. From the way Arthur and Javier had been acting made you think that it was by some fault of Sean, which didn’t surprise you in the slightest, but you still wanted to know exactly why you were now freezing your ass off in this God-forsaken valley.
You heard Javier sigh heavily from behind his bandana, his shoulders slumping forward at the memory. “I don’t know,” he shouted back. “Everything seemed like it was going fine until MacGuire started howling like a banshee from inside the house. I was keeping watch outside while Arthur and him went in through the back. John was hiding by the garden out front, and I thought we were gonna keep this one clean, but next thing we know gunshots are goin’ off and Sean starts yelling, and…” Javier stopped to rub at his face, his brows furrowing as he groaned and exhaled. You gave him a tight, knowing smile.
“Hey, its alright,” you said, trying to put some empathy behind it as you called over the gale, “shit happens.”
You thought you heard him laugh next to you. “Yeah, shit happens.”
The past three days had been hard on everyone. The gang had hardly stopped once since leaving the prairie, which, when paired with the winter weather you endured now, was cause for everyone’s exhaustion and short temper. You felt particularly bad for Javier and Arthur, who were easily the most upset about the whole ordeal. John wasn’t exactly pleased either, but he was never one to mind up and leaving at a moment’s notice.
The two of you continued on quietly for a while longer, not wanting to dwell much more on your circumstances. After an hour or so, Javier sat up straighter on his horse. You looked up as he pointed out in front of you. “You see that?” he called.
Ahead of you, you could just make out the silhouette of a structure through the snow. From where you stood, you could see no lights coming from it or anywhere else nearby, which was promising. Javier spurred his horse forward to investigate, with you following close behind. Getting closer you realized you had stumbled across an old barn, its timbers rough with age, but still standing. You stayed out front while Javier checked the perimeter, and when he came back around with nothing, you both hopped from your horses to see if you could get the large sliding doors open.
“Hey, maybe our luck is changing, huh?” he joked as he tied his horse’s reins to a half-rotted post.
“If this is what you call luck, I’m afraid you have a skewed sense of fortune, my friend.” Javier just laughed, despite everything.
“On my count,” you said, digging your feet into the snow to find traction. Javier did the same. “One, two, three!” You both pushed forward with all your combined strength, leaning your bodies into it to get the door to budge. Nothing happened. You tried twice more before falling back to catch your breath. Javier tipped his hat up, his bandana having fallen from his nose.
“Maybe we should just wait. The others will be here before long,” he heaved between breaths. “Between the rust and the ice, this ain’t budging for just the two of us.” You nodded and looked back down the trail you had forged for the wagon train, then up at the surrounding trees. You weren’t entirely sure of where you were at, and the valley was too unfamiliar for your comfort. This barn had been long-abandoned, but why? Sure, the owners could’ve died or have just moved on, but that didn’t make you feel any better.
“I think I’m gonna do some more scouting,” you stated after a moment’s contemplation. “I won’t go far, just wanna make sure there’s nothing else nearby. You’ll be alright here by yourself?”
Javier looked at you quizzically, but decided against arguing. He’d learned quick that none of the women in the group were your average housewives, and you in particular would gladly take on any labor the other men would, just to prove you could, if anything. He watched as you mounted your horse once more. “Just be careful, alright? Try not to go too far,” he said wearily, pulling his bandana back up to brace against the cold while he waited.
“I’ll try to be back before it gets too dark,” you replied over your shoulder, giving a wave. You patted your horse on her neck before digging in your spurs and galloping headlong into the storm.