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She couldn't breathe.
Her body began to shut down, piece by piece. First to go was any coherent thought. Next, her ability to stand on her own two feet. Last to betray her was the once subconscious act of breathing. Each breath she took was forced, only happening when a sob broke past her lips. The world around her faded and melded together. As if the artist of her life grew frustrated with the product and just smeared everything together. Arthur's words kept replaying in her head as the people began to surround her. "Bronte wasn't there, neither was Jack. Dutch and me, we tore the place apart. We don't know where they went, Abigail. I'm sorry. I swear to you that I won't stop looking until I found that boy."
Chaos ensued around her. Loud vocalizations of disapproval filled the camp. She didn't care.
Abigail didn't want to take another breath, not if her son wasn't in her arms. "Just breathe, Abigail. You hear me? Don't you even think about nothing else, just breathe." A voice in her ear ordered her. The tone was strict, leaving no room for disagreement.
Abigail breathed.
She breathed again.
Slowly, the world came into focus. Strong and firm hands were at her waist and upper arm, supporting her entire body weight. "That's it, Abi. You're doin' good." The voice praised her. Abigail followed the sound of the voice and found Sadie Adler at her right side. The other woman's brown eyes were kind, despite the tone she used with her. It was Sadie's arms that were holding her up. "They're gonna find him. If these fools can't do it, then you and I'll go find 'im our damn selves."
"John?" Her child's father's name stumbled out of her mouth in a sob. "Where's John?"
"St. Denis. He, uh, he didn't take the news well. He's still searchin' for Jack." Arthur's voice came from her left. Distress draped over his features like a heavy curtain. "I'll be headed back out to look the next possible moment. Dutch just wanted us to fill you in."
Abigail's eyes slowly washed over the rest of the gang until she found the man in question. Dutch stood furthest from her, watching her with careful eyes. Meeting those analytical eyes, Abigail felt rage begin to burn inside of her heart. It was his fault that Jack got taken from her. His fault that they didn't find him in time. His fault that she felt this despair in her heart. She yearned to screech at him, to tell him the kind of man he truly was. Almost as if she could read her thoughts Sadie began to pull Abigail away from the crowd. "C'mon, let's get you something to eat. If you stop takin' care of yourself, how you expect to take care of Jack when he gets back?" She told her as she dragged her towards Pearson's latest stew creation. She had zero interest in eating, truth be told. All Abigail wanted was her little boy.
Five in the morning came before she could realize it. Abigail sat on the porch of Shady Belle, hands folded in her lap and eyes focused on the pathway that acted as the entrance. She hadn't moved in over twelve hours. All she could manage to do was sit and watch, praying for John to come racing through with their son on his horse. Sadie sat next to her, head lolling backwards against the house. The blonde woman hadn't left her side for a moment longer than to use the bathroom. Abigail had told her to go to bed, but Sadie would have none of it. Now, the other woman had fallen asleep sitting with her. Abigail envied her.
She couldn't sleep. Her body felt nothing but exhaustion, yet her mind refused to shut off. Thoughts of her son lingered like bad perfume, making it impossible to close her eyes longer than a blink even though her eyes burned. Was he safe? Would those Italian bastards hurt him? Was he scared? Did he long for her hold as much as she longed to hold him?
When her mind stopped thinking of Jack, her thoughts wandered to John Marston. Where was he? Had he found their son? Was he just running off again? She couldn't be sure. John was still such a mystery to her at times, she never knew what to expect with him. Even so, she was a willow that bent right to his wind.
Abigail blinked the sudden tears from her eyes. When she opened her tired eyes again, she noticed a horse walking down the pathway. In the early morning light, she recognized John's horse easily enough. A sliver of hope bloomed in her heart. Did he have Jack with him? There wasn't enough light to tell. Her gaze focused on John's horse and nothing else. She waited with bated breath for him to get closer. After a few seconds, the hope burned into disappointment. He didn't have Jack with him. Emotion built at the back of her throat as the tears began to slide down her face. Nevertheless, she watched as John stumbled his way over to her.
"Abigail, I—" His voice was coarser than usual. He took the few steps up the porch before landing on his knees in front of her. "I tried, Abigail. I ain't never tried so hard in my life." Shaking hands found a home atop her kneecaps. His eyes were rimmed with red, his own cheeks stained with tear tracks. "I'm so sorry, Abigail. God, you must hate the sight of me."
She wanted to reassure him that she didn't, but no words came out of her mouth. All she could manage to do was unfold her hands and place them on top of his.
"I ain't giving up, I swear. I'll find him if it's the last thing I do." His fingers squeezed her knees tight. "I'm gonna wake up Arthur. I'm gonna find our son, Abigail. You ain't got no reason to believe anything that comes out of my mouth, but I swear, I swear he's all I care about."
John Marston was a stupid, stupid man. Abigail loved him more than she cared to admit. All she ever wanted was for them to be a family, good and proper. Hearing him finally claim Jack as his own was the catalyst for her emotions to be set free. Before she realized what was happening, she was sobbing. John wasted little time in gathering her shaking body into his arms. Abigail cried shamelessly in his hold, not caring how loud she was. John's own sobs, albeit much quiet, filled her ears. The couple sat together on the porch for several long moments, mourning the absence of their son. "Get our son back, John." Abigail managed to croak between her cries.
"I will, Abi. I will. Just… let's just breathe. We'll get him, I swear."
Three days passed slowly, feeling more like three months instead. The longer her son wasn't in her arms, the more her body began to shut down. Abigail refused to do anything except sit on the porch and wait for either Arthur or John to return with Jack on their horses. Susan had tried to goad her into doing the camp chores. Abigail ignored her pushing.
She spoke to no one, not even Sadie. She hadn't been able to keep any food down in days, much to Sadie's displeasure. Abigail couldn't remember the last time she slept. It didn't matter. All that mattered to her was that her son was still only God knew where. She didn't think she would be able to sleep until he was in her arms again.
"I know times are troubling, gentlemen, but we have got to get back on track." The unmistakable voice of Dutch came from behind her inside the house. The thin walls, or what was left of them, offered no secrecy.
"Dutch, I just don't think it's the best time to try and do a job like this." Arthur's voice came next.
"Count me out, I got more important things to worry about than robbing a God damn bank!" John scoffed. "My son is still missing, Dutch. Now ain't the time."
Abigail swiveled her upper body to watch the men from the broken window. Hosea stood at Dutch's side with a disapproving frown on his face. "I'm with the boys, Dutch. This feels wrong. The bank isn't going anywhere, we should wait."
Dutch's eyes narrowed at the other three before he gestured towards the window opposite him. "I understand that you all feel very strongly about young Jack being gone. I assure you, I do as well. But there are more pressing matters at hand. Look at how many mouths we've got to feed out there. We got the Pinkertons breathing down our neck. Arthur, John, you are needed here. I am counting on you boys with this job." He turned to Hosea, matching the man's frown. "Hosea, you and Abigail will need to go into town and test out some distractions, feel out the law. Am I understood?"
"Dutch, Abigail ain't been right since Jack went missing. We can't ask her to do a job right now." Arthur tried.
"Sometimes we have to make sacrifices, Arthur. We've made our fair share for her, she can return the favor."
The rage built inside of her again the longer she listened to the conversation. Hot, burning, rage. Who did he think he was to talk about sacrifices as if he'd ever made any? Abigail stood from her chair before stomping into the house. The moment she rounded the corner and got him in her sight, she let loose all of the frustration built inside of her. "I ain't going on any damn job until my son is back, Dutch Van der Linde." She shouted so loud her throat burned.
Arthur and John flocked to her side instantly, both trying to calm her anger. Dutch didn't seem bothered and offered her a winning smile. "Miss Roberts, I am urging you to think of the good of the whole family. We need money, you know this as well as anyone else here. I have always done right by you and little Jackie, have I not?"
"Giving up on him is doing right by him?" She persisted.
"Abigail, I would never leave one of my own behind. We will get that boy back I swear to you. You just need to have a little faith in the process of things. Think about it this way, when we hit the bank, we'll frazzle ole Bronte enough so that he comes out of hiding and we make him hand over the child. Just have some faith, my dear."
Something snapped inside her mind. "Just have some faith? Faith in you?" Before John or Arthur could stop her, Abigail crossed the distance between her and Dutch. She stood only inches from him, glaring up at him. "I've had faith in you, Dutch. Know what it's got me? My son got kidnapped! Far as I'm concerned, faith in you ain't worth the damn sacrifices you have to make." Abigail lifted her hand and let loose all of the anger she felt towards the man in a loud smack. "You and your god damn faith can go straight to hell, Dutch Van der Linde!" She screeched at him. She felt John and Arthur's arms wrap around her and drag her away. She held her glare steady at Dutch, who seemed to be returning the favor.
"That's enough, Abigail." Hosea finally intervened. "Nobody will be doing any jobs until the boy is brought back, and that is that." He looked between Dutch and the three of them, hands raised. "Am I understood? Jack is our priority."
"Understood, Hosea." Arthur agreed at once.
"Dutch?" Hosea prompted his partner.
Dutch didn't say anything at first as he ran his hand over the reddened area of his cheek. His tongue ran along the front of his teeth before settling his eyes on John. "Better get your woman in check, John." He spat before turning on his heel and clomping out of the house.
The burning rage started to fizzle the second Dutch was out of her view. Arthur's arm slipped from her waist as she fell into John's hold. The tears started again before she could blink them away. John drew her closer, pushing her face into his chest. His fingers buried into her hair as her weeping grew louder. "Me and Arthur are gonna go back and find him ain't we, Arthur?" He tried to reassure her.
"Course we are. Think we might be closing in on a lead, anyhow." She felt his hand rest on her shoulder. "Just… try to breathe, okay?"
Two more days passed in a painfully slow fashion.
Arthur and John hadn't been back to the house in those two days. Dutch clearly held a grudge against her for something or another. She wasn't sure if it was her slap or that Arthur and John weren't falling at his feet. She couldn't care less. His once charismatic aura had soured in Abigail's eyes and she avoided him like the plague. His hostility toward her didn't matter, and she didn't fear him in the slightest. The camp was filled with a heavy tension because of the events of the past week. She couldn't remember a time it had ever felt this way, but the other gang member's opinions were irrelevant as she was to them. Sadie and Hosea were the only ones that bothered with her.
Sadie promised that if the boys didn't return within the next day, the pair of them would go searching themselves. Truthfully, it was the only thing keeping her tired body going. She wanted nothing more than to sleep, but her mind forbade such a thing.
Which led to her current position.
Three am on the porch, Sadie asleep at her side. Abigail hunched over, shoulders bowed, burning eyes focused on the same pathway. Hosea was on guard duty tonight per his request. She guessed that he was getting worried about John and Arthur being gone like she was. True, it wasn't unusual, but the circumstances made their longer absence seem bleak. She heaved a sigh, wincing at the feeling. Her throat was raw from all the emotion she exhibited the past week. She didn't know how she had any tears left in her body, let alone feeling. If she didn't get her son back soon….
"Abigail!" Hosea's voice rang through the camp.
The sound of hooves drew her attention, her back snapping up straight. Arthur and John were rushing into camp. She slowly stood up and watched with hopeful eyes as the two men hitched their horses. The dark offered her no favors like the early morning light had that morning John returned empty handed. She clung to one of the banisters, trying to not let herself get hopeful like she had then. She squinted, trying to see better. All of a sudden, a small voice cried out to her. "Mama!"
Her feet were running not even a second later. "You found him!" She cried.
"We got him!" John hollered, rushing towards her with their son in his arms.
Abigail ripped the child from his arms and held his small body against her own. "My boy, my boy." She wept into his shoulders.
"I missed you, Mama! Pa said you would be happy to see me!" Her son's tiny arms linked around her as best he could manage.
Abigail laughed through her tears. "You ain't got any idea, Jack." She looked at Arthur and John, smiling for the first time since Jack left her arms. "Thank you. Thank you so much."
"You're family, Abigail. You know I'd do all I can for you and the boy." Arthur reminded her. "I'm gonna get some sleep. Y'all have a good night." He walked past them, patting Jack's back on the way. "Give your mama lots of love, you hear me?"
"Oh, yes, Uncle Arthur!"
Abigail turned her attention back to John, frowning at him. "What? What's wrong?" He asked, eyes widening.
She reached for his shirt and grabbed a fistful. "You're too far away. Come here, you stupid man." She told him. She gave a small tug on his shirt to invite him into their embrace. The moment his arms wrapped around them and she felt his breath in her ear, her body relaxed. She didn't know if John would change his mind about being a family tomorrow. She wanted to enjoy every moment while she could before his wind blew into another direction.
For the first time in a week, Abigail could breathe.