Alexandria stood, her plate and cup in hand. She leaned over and kissed Hosea's cheek, feeling the rough stubble against her lips.
"Don't worry," She said, her voice light. "I'll be back before you know it, with enough gold to make your eyes water."
Hosea chuckled, patting her hand gently.
"Just be careful, darlin'," He said, his eyes filled with a fatherly concern that made her heart ache.
It had been so long since she had felt that kind of care. Arthur finished his coffee, its warmth doing little to dispel the cold knot in his stomach. He knew he had to say something, to do something. He couldn't let her ride off into the lion's den alone.
"I'm going with you," He said, his voice firm.
Alexandria looked up from her dishes, surprise flickered across her features.
"What?" She didn't bother to hide her skepticism. "You've got better things to do, Arthur."
He met her gaze, his own eyes unwavering.
"We're partners," He said, his voice a low rumble. "We do this together."
Alexandria felt the tension between them ease slightly. She knew he was right; they were in this together, whether she liked it or not.
"Fine," She said, her voice a bit softer. "We'll take the wagon."
Uncle looked over, his eyes crinkling with a hint of amusement.
"Good choice," He said, nodding his head. "It'll make the haul back easier, and you never know what you'll find in town."
Alexandria nodded.
"Yeah, and it'll give us more space for any... unexpected cargo," She said, her voice trailing off.
Arthur pushed back from the table, his chair scraping against the ground.
"I'll saddle up," He said, his jaw set.
Alexandria raised an eyebrow.
"Thought you were all about that wagon life now," She teased, her voice light.
Arthur grunted, his annoyance clear.
"I can still ride, if the need arises," He said, walking over to his horse. "And with you dressed like that, I don't trust the townsfolk to keep their hands to themselves."
Alexandria's eyes flashed, but she said nothing. She knew he had a point, but she also knew he was just looking for a fight. She turned away, focusing on wagon horses, her movements deliberate as she tightened the straps and checked the girth. She felt his eyes on her back, but she didn't look up. Arthur saddled his horse, his jaw tight. He didn't like the idea of her going without him, but he knew better than to argue in front of the gang. They had enough on their plates with the looming bounty hunters, the O'Driscolls, and the tension it brought. He had to trust that she knew what she was doing, that she could handle herself. But as he watched her, so small and delicate beside the powerful beasts, he couldn't help but feel a surge of protectiveness. Something he hadn't felt in years. Years after he destroyed their bond, and when she was assumed dead. Alexandria finished hitching up the horses to the wagon with the ease of someone who had done it a thousand times before. She didn't need any help from Uncle, and that was fine by Arthur. He had seen the way the man looked at her and heard the rumours whispered around camp. But he had to bite his tongue, had to let her do this. He swung into the saddle of his horse, the leather creaking beneath him. The stallion snorted, sensing his tension. Arthur took a deep breath, trying to push his thoughts aside. He had to focus on the task at hand, not the way Alexandria's skirt clung to her legs as she climbed up onto the wagon. She didn't need his help, and she sure as hell didn't want it. They set off towards Valentine, the wagon lurching and groaning. The sun was a fiery ball in the sky, casting long shadows across the landscape. Arthur couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding as they drew closer to civilization. The town was a cesspool of greed and corruption, and he didn't trust it not to suck her in. What Arthur didn't know was that Alexandria had been making a name for herself in the quiet moments between heists and campfire stories. She was the sharp-eyed gambler in the saloon who could read a man's tells faster than a coyote could spot a rabbit in the brush. Once she appeared, she was whispered around the tables, a promise of either a fortune or a swift loss, depending on the side of the hand she was on. In the general store, she was the charming young lady with a silver tongue, coaxing the best prices for supplies and sometimes leaving the shopkeepers with less than they had bargained for. But no one knew her name. In the dusty streets of Valentine, she had a knack for slipping into whatever identity suited the moment. To the widow with the unpaid debts, she was the kind-hearted stranger who offered to pay them off. To the desperate gambler in a back alley, she was the mysterious lady who delivered a chance at redemption or a swift end to their troubles. Each name she donned was a mask, a shield to protect her from the truth she had left behind. Alexandria stopped the wagon outside the general store, her eyes scanning the town as if looking for ghosts of her past. Arthur pulled his horse alongside, the animal's hooves echoing on the dusty and occasionally muddy streets.
"I'll get the supplies," She said, her voice firm.
He nodded, dismounting and tying his horse to the wagon. As she climbed down, her legs wobbled slightly from the jostling ride, and he found himself reaching out to steady her, despite the confused feelings still simmering in his veins. Her eyes didn't meet his. Inside the store, the air was thick with the scent of leather, tobacco, and whiskey. The shopkeeper looked up from behind the counter, his eyes narrowing as they took in the girl in white and green.
"What can I do for you folks?" He asked, his voice gruff.
The man's expression softened, his eyes lingering on her a moment too long. Arthur felt his hand drift to the butt of his gun, but she didn't seem to notice.
"Well, you've come to the right place," The shopkeeper said, his voice dripping with insincerity.
Alexandria's smile didn't waver as she rattled off the list of supplies they needed: ammo, medical supplies, and some fresh produce. The man nodded, his eyes never leaving hers.
"I've got just the things," he said, turning to grab the items requested.
Arthur's jaw clenched as he watched the man's back, his hand hovering near his gun. The shopkeeper returned, his arms laden with goods. He leaned over the counter, his breath heavy with the scent of the saloon's whiskey.
"Anything else, darlin'?" He asked, his eyes flickering to Arthur and then back to her, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
Alexandria ignored the undertones of his voice, focusing instead on the task at hand.
"Just some sugar and coffee, please," She said, her smile never faltering.
Arthur was growing more and more annoyed. The shopkeeper's gaze lingered on her for a beat too long before he turned to grab the requested items. Arthur felt his fists clench, his eyes narrowing at the man's back.
"Keep it in your pants," He muttered under his breath.
Alexandria's laughter was like a cool breeze, cutting through Arthur's tension.
"You're so suspicious," She said, her voice light. "He's just being polite."
"Polite, my ass," Arthur muttered, his eyes never leaving the shopkeeper's back.
Alexandria shot him a look, her voice low.
"Stop being so jealous," She whispered. "You're acting like a possessive bear."
Arthur's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching.
"I'm not jealous," He said, though the tone of his voice suggested otherwise.
Alexandria's eyes danced with mischief.
"Could've fooled me," She murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
The shopkeeper returned. His laugh was forced, his eyes flicking towards Arthur before focusing back on her.
"I'll load these up for ya," He said, his smile a little too wide.
Alexandria felt the tension in Arthur's body as he stepped closer to the counter, blocking the man's path.
"I've got it," He said, his voice a warning.
The shopkeeper took a step back, his smile slipping slightly.
"Suit yourself," He said, placing the items down with a thump.
Arthur's eyes never left the man as he began to load the supplies into the wagon. Each movement was deliberate, each lift of the sack or box calculated to show his strength, his dominance. It was a silent challenge, one that Alexandria recognized all too well. She had seen it in the eyes of men before, the need to prove themselves to her. But she had never seen it in Arthur's eyes, not like this. It was as if he had become a different person, one she didn't quite recognize. The shopkeeper's eyes darted between the two of them, the smirk on his face fading into something akin to fear. He knew better than to push a man like Arthur, especially when it came to a woman like her. Alexandria watched as Arthur took his sweet time loading the supplies into the wagon, his movements methodical, each one a silent declaration of his claim. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of something, a strange mix of irritation and... was that satisfaction? She didn't need a man to fight her battles, but there was something primal about the way he had stepped in that made her pulse quicken. With a sign, she climbed down the from the boardwalk, her boots landing in the dust with a soft thud.
"Arthur," She said, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "Is there anything else we need before we leave?"
He looked over at her, his eyes still dark with emotion.
"Just one more thing," He said, his voice tight. "I need to speak with the sheriff."
Alexandria's gaze flicked to the reader, a hint of a smile playing at her lips. It was almost as if she was saying, 'See what I have to deal with?' Then shifted her focus back to Arthur.
"The sheriff?" She echoed, her voice a bit too high. "What for?"
Arthur's gaze met hers and remained steady.
"Since when do you question my decisions?" He challenged, his voice low.
Alexandria's smile was cool, her eyes unflinching.
"Since you started making them for the both of us," She shot back. "But if you insist on playing the hero, I'm not letting you go alone."
Arthur's jaw clenched, but he didn't argue. Instead, he followed her towards the Sheriff's office, his eyes scanning the street for trouble. The town was already bustling with activity, and he knew that a gang member dressed in white was bound to draw attention. He watched as people's eyes widened, their whispers grew louder, and heads turned. But Alexandria walked with the confidence of a woman who owned the world, her shoulders straight, her hips swaying gently. The Sheriff's office was a squat, unassuming building, its wooden facade weathered by the harsh sun and wind. A lone tumbleweed rolled by as they approached, the bell above the door jingling as they stepped inside. The room was dim, the air thick with the scent of sweat and cigar smoke. The Sheriff and a lawman are sitting down inside.
"Well... looky here. Maybe this is our man and woman." Announced the Sheriff sarcastically.
The lawman's chair scraped against the wooden floor as he rose to his feet, his eyes narrowed on Arthur and Alexandria as they stood before the two men. He was a tall, lean man with a face that looked like it had seen more than its fair share of sun and hard liquor. His badge gleamed in the dull light, and the gun at his hip was a stark reminder of their true intentions.
"You two bounty hunters?" he said, his voice a slow drawl.
Arthur's eyes narrowed.
"Maybe... it depends," He said, his voice a low rumble.
The Sheriff leaned back in his chair, his thumbs hooked into his gun belt.
"Well, I reckon you ain't here to pass the day," He said, his eyes flicking over Alexandria's white outfit. "...turn yourself in... or discuss the finer points of country law. Then I don't need to know much more than that... till I got a reason to."
He pointed to the wanted poster with a stubby finger.
"Why don't you have a look at that poster... on the wall over there."
Arthur's gaze followed the Sheriff's gesture and his eyes widened when he recognized the name. Without missing a beat, he strode over to the wall, yanking the paper from its nail.
"Benedict Allbright," He murmured, reading the description. The name was familiar, like a sour taste that lingered on the tongue.
"He's a low down huckster. He's been poisoning folks with his miracle cure... from here to Annesburg. Killed more than Landon Ricketts without even pulling a trigger. Get some kind of sick satisfaction out of it," The Lawman sneered. The Sheriff nods.He turns to look out the window behind him.
"The feller over at the saloon says... he thought he saw him by the gorge... straight north of here. You think you can bring him in? The money's good. I need him alive though. I wanna make sure the women he widowed... get compensated before he swings."
Alexandria looked at Arthur, her eyes unreadable. The poster trembled in her hand, the name echoing in her mind like a ghost from the past. She handed it back to him, and he tucked it into his satchel with a nod.
"We'll see what we can do," He said, his voice deceptively calm.
The lawmen and Sheriff exchanged glances, their eyes flickering between the two of them, trying to gauge if they were serious. The Sheriff leaned back in his chair, his thumbs tucked into his gun belt.
"If you find him, don't bring him in alive," He warned.
Alexandria's heart skipped a beat at the coldness in Arthur's eyes as he nodded.
"Alive, I got it.," He said, his voice tight.
They exited the office, the door slamming shut behind them. The sun was high in the sky, casting long shadows across the street. The townsfolk had gone about their business, the whispers and stares of earlier forgotten in the mundane tasks of the day.
Arthur's eyes narrowed as he studied her, the sun glinting off his hat.
"I'm not playing anything," He said, his voice serious. "But maybe you should consider changing into something more... suitable."
Alexandria looked down at her skirt, the white fabric fluttering in the breeze. She knew what he meant; the impracticality of her dress was glaring in the face of a bounty hunt. But she had worn worse, survived worse. She met his gaze with a steely determination.
"I've faced down more than one man dressed like this," She said, her voice firm.
Arthur's expression softened, understanding flashing in his eyes. He nodded, his hand moving away from the gun at his hip.
"Fine," He said, his voice gruff. "But if we run into trouble..."
Alexandria's eyes sparked with mischief as she climbed into the wagon.
"Oh, I'm sure you'll manage to keep up," She called over her shoulder, flicking the reins and setting the horses into a steady trot.
The wagon jolted to life, sending a plume of dust into the air behind them as they headed out of town.