Chapter Text
You didn’t think much of it at first, watching Tilly walk towards the alley. Her and Karen had spent the past hour or so casing the saloon for men to rob while you and Mary Beth had gone the smarter route; latching on to the fanciest skirt you could find and looking for information instead of gold. But then, just before she disappeared around the corner of the building, she glanced back. Panic gathered in your stomach and settled there like a rock. “Arthur! I think Tilly…”
He was pushing past you before all the fearful thoughts could come spilling out.
For all the time you had known Tilly, she had always been the strongest among the girls. She’d lived a hard life but she hadn’t let it harden her. She was funny and kind and always quick to defend you. When she held your hand, she was sweet, and when she whispered in your ear, she was gentle and when she kissed your lips it was always soft… but for one singular, harrowing moment as she disappeared from sight, dragged forward roughly by the arm you had seen something you had never seen in Tilly: fear.
The panic and distress that coiled around your insides like a snake didn’t lessen when she reappeared with Arthur. It was not lulled as she quickly crossed the muddy street and sat down next to you on the bench. It remained still as she rested her head on your shoulder and her fingers intertwined with yours. “Are you alright?” you murmured, despite knowing what the answer was.
“It’s…”
And then Arthur was back with Karen who was sporting a fat lip and a black eye, and it was gone. Tilly was Tilly again, and she was on her feet, leading Karen to the wagon. Your watched her silently on the ride back to camp as she fussed over Karen. She smiled and joked and used soothing words, but you couldn’t get the image of her fear out of your head, and you knew that she was thinking about it too. Her smile was tight, her grip on Karen’s arm a little rough, and never once did she look you in the eyes.
As soon as your feet had touched the ground that was camp, you whisked her away. Karen would be fine; Tilly was your concern. She let you lead her over to the overlook and pull her down into the grass next to you. You looked out over the Dakota River, sitting in silence for a moment. “Are you alright?” you ask again, softly.
She snorted. “If there is anything I have learned in this life, it’s how to deal with men who don’t take no for an answer.”
You look over at her, raising an eyebrow. That wasn’t an answer to your question and she knew it. After a moment, she sighed and took your hand. You pull her towards you and she lays down, resting her head in your lap, looking up at you. “We can spend our lives thinking about what ifs,” She said, tracing circles on the back of your hand, “What if Arthur wasn’t there today; what if I had never met Dutch… but if you keeping thinking about all that, you’ll miss out on,” she motioned towards camp and the vista, “All this.”
“Tilly, I saw you. You were so…”
“Afraid? I was, for a minute, and then I turned and I saw you and Arthur, and…” She brings your hand to her lips. “I’m fine, and I’ll be fine, long as I have you.”
You frowned and blushed at the same time. Her words were touching and romantic and sounded as if she had plucked them straight out of one of Mary Beth’s books. “Tilly, you’re allowed to be upset. I know it was those Foreman boys. I know what they’ve done to you.”
She wriggles and repositions herself so she’s sitting in your lap, her arms snaking around your waist and her head resting in the crook of your neck. “And with a love like yours, darling,” She says, nuzzling against you, “None of it really matters. Just hold me, and I’ll be fine.”
So you hold her tight, because really, there’s nothing else you want to do more in the world.