Chapter 1



Dearest Dutch,


I pray this letter meets you well, though by the time you receive this, I will likely be gone. The doctor tells me I have but weeks to live.


I have spent near as much time cursing the day I met you as I have thanking the lucky stars you crossed my path. For if it weren't for you, I never would have been blessed with my sweet girl Emmeline. But if it weren't for the way you live your life, I could have raised her more proper and sent her to school. If it weren't for the enemies you've made, I wouldn't have been afraid to let her out of my sight and maybe she would have a husband of her own. A life of her own.


She resembled you so much in her youth, I was afraid a member of one of your competing gangs or even the police would notice and take her away from me. It caused me to keep her home more than I should have. Coddle her more than I should have. I'm afraid that has left her too naive for this world and I fear what may happen to her because of my actions. She ain't simple by no means. No, she was blessed with your brain, but I fear I've kept her acting too young for her years. She should be having children of her own, but I'm afraid she's more like one herself.


That is why I'm writing you. Just like we agreed, I never told her about you, but I think you may be the only one that can help her now. As much as I hate to put her close to you and your dealings, I'm so frightened that she will end up on the streets or in the hands of even worse men than you. Being used and taken advantage of. She is not taking my illness well as it is, so I fear what she may be like when I'm gone. I fear, through her grief, she will make a mistake and let the wrong people into her life, thinking they will help her, but they would surely only hurt her.


All I ask is that you check in on her and make sure she's safe. Make sure she's eating enough and taking care of herself. Make sure the people around her are good. I will leave it up to your discretion to tell her of her true parentage. Though I will remind you that Joseph Turner was the best father for Emmeline I could ever ask for, even though he knew she weren't his. Emma has nothing but love for that man and his death is still a sore spot for her, though it's years in the past.


Despite all the bad things I know you've done, I think you have a good streak in you, Dutch Van Der Linde. I know it were you that left boxes on our doorstep with bits of money all those times. And all those postcards with addresses to send mail to just in case I needed you, though I never used them but once when Joseph died and now, of course. I know you always cared about Emma in your own way. You cared enough to keep her away from your life.


She ain't got nobody now, though. And that scares me more than her being with you.


Yours truly,


Alice Turner


"Shit," Dutch mutters under his breath as he folds the paper up and delicately places it back in its envelope.


"Bad news, Dutch?" Arthur Morgan happened to walk by Dutch's tent at that moment and noticed the leader's sullen face.


Dutch looks up to his surrogate son, now standing in front of him, and scratches at the black stubble on his cheeks. "Of a sort," he answers. "Why don't you take a ride with me. We have something to discuss."


Arthur nods and heads off to where his horse is hitched with all the others of the camp.


The Van Der Linde Gang wasn't exactly well known in the area, but they weren't entirely anonymous, either. They had set up camp outside a town called Blackwater in a clearing completely out of the way. This gave them the privacy they always enjoyed, while maintaining close enough proximity to the town to run their business, that being anything a little south of what's lawful. A stagecoach robbery here, petty pickpocketing there, some holdups in between, whatever filled their coffers.


Both Arthur and Dutch mount their horses and set off with Dutch in the lead on his white Arabian named The Count.


"Where we headed?" Arthur calls out, spurring his own rose grey Andalusian called Sparrow to come up beside Dutch.


"Some place quiet," he answers tersely.


After a few hours, they come upon a cliff overlooking the sparse heartlands. Both men dismount and Dutch walks over to the lone large oak tree sitting among lush grass and various wild flowers, leaning on it as he surveys the land below him.


Arthur walks toward the older man with some trepidation. "What's goin' on, Dutch?"


Dutch doesn't turn back, but pulls a cigar from his pocket and lights it, taking a long drag. He lets the smoke swirl around him before finally answering. "I need you to do something for me, son."


"Of course," Arthur replies without thought, always loyal to the man that he had come to see as a father.


Dutch turns to face him. "What I'm about to tell you, no one else on this earth knows. Not even Hosea."


Arthur nods, his anxiety building at what Dutch could possibly tell him. "You know I won't tell no one."


"That's why I'm entrusting you with this." He takes another drag on his cigar before continuing. "Twenty years ago- Well, twenty two," he corrects, "we ran through this area for a time, me and Hosea. It was a couple years before you came to us."


Arthur scratches at his chin and nods, waiting for him to continue.


"Off that way," Dutch gestures off to the east, "There's a place called Emerald Ranch. I happened across a farm girl named Alice. Beautiful woman with fiery red hair. She was nice enough to invite me into her bed on multiple occasions."


Arthur scrunches up his face. "I don't wanna hear this, Dutch."


He continues without acknowledging Arthur's distaste for the subject matter. "She fell pregnant."


Arthur's expression turns more serious at that.


"She had a little girl," Dutch continues. "Emmeline." He lets the news sink in as he takes a drag off his cigar.


Arthur is stunned for a moment before he shakes his head, as if that could make everything make sense. "You got a daughter?!"


Dutch nods and lets out a sigh. He needs to tell Arthur the whole story. "Alice... She was a nice girl, but she weren't stupid. She knew what I was. Saw right through the bullshit I was spitting at her. But she still decided to lay with me anyway." He lets out a chuckle at the memory. "She had a wild streak, that one. I saw her a few times over some months. The last one being the time she told me she was with child." He pushes himself off of the tree and faces Arthur fully. "She had found a man. A good man named Joseph Turner. He was a farm hand that worked for her father. He knew she was in a delicate way, but it didn't matter. He was to marry Alice and raise the baby as his own in a little farmhouse they found outside of Valentine. The three of us agreed not to tell the child about me. We agreed I wouldn't come around."


Arthur furrows his brows at all this information, but he keeps quiet, letting the man finish what he had to say.


"I made sure to leave Alice ways to get ahold of me in case something happened. About ten years ago, she wrote a letter saying Jospeh got thrown by a horse and succumbed to his injuries. After that, I would try to make it out this way every few months to leave them money in the night. Never said it were from me."


Arthur nods. He had noticed the times Dutch would leave without saying exactly what he was doing, but never said anything.


Dutch throws his spent cigar to the ground and stomps it out. "Alice sent a letter saying she was on her deathbed. I'm sure she's gone now as the letter was months old by the time I got it." He shakes his head as he looks down. "She was a good woman."


Arthur waits for Dutch to say more, but he seems lost in thought. "Are you headed out to Valentine to pay your respects?" he asks, not sure why Dutch is telling him all this.


The older man looks up to Arthur. "I need you to head out that way to look after the girl."


"The girl? You mean your daughter ?"


"Yes."


"Why me?"


"Because I trust you."


"No. I mean, why not you ?"


Dutch shakes his head. "I'm needed at the camp."


"I'm not?"


Dutch lays his hand on Arthur's shoulder. "Of course you are, son. But, we're in a good place right now. Everyone's fed and clothed for the time being. I can tell everyone you're off on an errand for me. But if I go missing for a while, people will talk." He shakes his head. "The girl's better off not knowing about me, anyway. It'll only be temporary. A few weeks, maybe a month then you can come back home."


"I ain't no nursemaid, Dutch."


"I don't mean that kinda lookin' after. She's a young woman, but..." He lets out a sigh. "She's all alone now. And her mama sheltered her, apparently. According to her letter, the girl's an innocent. I just want to make sure she's on her feet."


Arthur turns away and takes his hat off to run his fingers through his hair, trying to make sense of everything. "Why doesn't Hosea know about all this?"


"I was young and stupid," he says with a voice tinged with shame. "Me and him were just starting out together and I knew he'd look down on me for leaving Alice and the child behind. You know he still would now if he knew."


"Can't the women go out and take care of the girl?"


Dutch walks over to Arthur and places both hands on his shoulders. "I'm asking you , son. I know you can look after her. And I know you can keep this quiet . It's safer for the girl that way. The less people know, the better."


Arthur gives a little shrug of concession. "Alright, Dutch. I'll go visit the girl."


"Thank you, son." Dutch pats the younger man on the cheek. "Thank you."


Dutch draws Arthur a map to the house and gives him money enough for food and supplies.


"I'll send Charles out if I need to reach you," Dutch calls out as Arthur mounts Sparrow.


"And I'll head back once the girl is doing good on her own."


Dutch nods and moves back to lean against the tree as Arthur heads toward the path. It's not a long ride to the farmhouse, so Arthur takes it slow, delaying his arrival time.


He's never been that good with women. Sure, he's been a gentleman and he's certainly laid with more than a few, but when it comes to emotional women, he's at a loss. Now he's tasked with taking care of a woman fifteen years his junior that has just lost her mother.


What if she's hysterical? Or what if she kicks him out? He is a complete stranger, after all. Then again, what if this Alice woman wrote the letter in haste and got over her illness. He might ride up to the house and see two happy women going about their days.


God, he hopes that's the case.


He finds the small farmhouse just fine, though there doesn't seem to be anyone there.


"Hello?" he calls as he pushes the door open slightly. The house is lived in, but otherwise empty. He comes back out and walks around the building, seeing an open stable attached to the right side of the house. One beautiful female blood bay thoroughbred is hitched there.


He slowly holds his hand out to see if she's skittish. To his surprise, she puts her nose right to his hand and sniffs it. "You're a friendly one, eh, girl." He chuckles and rubs the horse on its nose.


"Who are you?" a sweet voice asks from Arthur's right.


He turns away from the horse to see who he assumes is Emmeline. She doesn't much look like Dutch, except for the jet black hair. She's slight, about a foot shorther than Arthur and thin. Her skin is fair, but her cheeks are rosy and her eyes are puffy, signaling that she had been crying. Her dress is rather plain, but a faded light blue color that's not unpleasant to the eye.


As a matter of fact, Arthur finds every part of the woman standing before him pleasing to the eye.


"You alright, Miss?" He comes forward closer to her.


"I was just putting some flowers on my mother's grave. She passed two weeks ago." She looks down to try to hide how she swipes away a tear from her cheek.


Arthur sees it, though. "My condolences, Miss. My name is Arthur Morgan. Your mother sent a letter a while back to my boss Tacitus Kilgore and he sent me out here to check on you," he fibs.


"Uncle Tacitus," she chuckles slightly. "Never heard of such a man 'til I saw his name on that envelope Mama had me send."


"He's real worried 'bout ya."


"That's nice, I suppose."


Arthur shifts his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. "Do ya need anything, Miss Emmeline?"


She shakes her head.


"I'm to stay with you for some time to make sure you're alright."


"Oh. Uncle Tacitus wants that?"


Arthur nods. "Yes, Miss Emmeline. Just until you get back on your feet."


Emmeline had never lived with anyone but her parents, but she had also never lived alone before her mother had died. She found that she doesn't rather like the quiet of the house with just her in it.


"You can stay in mama's room," she replies. "I've washed all the linens, but they need put back on the bed." She walks past Arthur to get to the front door.


Arthur is surprised she accepted all of that so easily. He's a strange man and she's allowing him into her home without question. "You get many visitors out here?" he asks and falls in step behind her, thinking that anyone could just talk her out of house and home. Among other things.


"No, sir. Can't remember the last time anyone rode out this way."


"You don't have to call me sir." He quickly walks around her to open the door for her.


She gives him a smile and walks past him into the house. "Thank you, Mr. Morgan."


He tips his hat and follow her in. They walk into the kitchen area with a hearth on the back wall, counters to the left and a table with two chairs in the middle. Off to the right are two doors leading to the bedrooms.


"This will be yours." She gestures to the left and they go in. She goes to a large cabinet and pulls out sheets and a blanket for the bed.


As she makes the bed, Arthur watches her. "You got crops here?"


"Out back," she answers. "Not a lot. Mostly just enough for my mother and me. But she would go into town and sell the extra for money."


"You need help with that? The crops."


She stands up straight after smoothing the blanket out. "Not yet. But if you don't mind, since you're here to help, and all, would you run into town for some of those oat cakes? Miss Susie just loves them and I've been plum out for a week."


"Susie that horse out there?"


" Miss Susie," she corrects, though not in an overly serious manner. "She is a lady , Mr. Morgan. And, yes, that is her in her stable."


He chuckles at her. "Well, she's a beauty. And I can get those oat cakes, but can I ask, why haven't you gone into town to get them yourself?"


"Mama never let me go into town," she answers quietly.


"Pardon me, but your mama ain't here no more."


She looks up at him for a moment. "That may be true, but it don't make all those bad men she told me about any less dangerous." She turns and starts to walk back into the kitchen.


"What bad men?" Arthur asks as he follows behind her.


"The bad men that live in towns. There's criminals there, Mr. Morgan. A lot of them. They'd sooner slit your throat than say hello. I always worried so about my mama goin' into town, but she said she knew how to handle them. And she always came back just fine." She starts to look around in her cupboards, pulling out a few cans as she goes.


"I ain't gonna lie, there are bad men here and there, but most of the time, people are alright."


She turns around and gives him a look that seems like that's the first time she had ever heard that. And true enough, it was. Her mother had always told her that the world was a much more dangerous place than it was to keep her from wanting to leave home.


"Maybe in some places you been, but not Valentine. Mama said it's real bad there."


"Ain't that bad, if I'm bein' honest," he replies, not thinking of how the realization may affect the poor girl.


"Maybe not for a big strong man as yourself. People know to stay away from you," she rationalizes. Surely her mother wouldn't have lied.


Arthur finally sees what's going on with her and drops the issue. "Course, Miss." He nods one time.


She looks back to her cans. "Looks like I ain't got much to make for supper. Mama always went to the butcher's for the meat, and picked up some canned things from the store if our own stores were low. Which they are now. This is all I have left." She gestures to the few cans on the counter. She had eaten through everything they had canned up, since the crops are not ready for harvest yet.


"I'll go into Valentine and get some things." He turns to walk to the door.


"Wait!" she calls out and opens a drawer in an end table by the door. She rummages around for the few coins she has in there. "I'll give you money."


He holds his hand up. "Ain't no problem, Miss. I got money from Uncle Tacitus."


She straightens up. "He sure is a generous man."


Arthur doesn't comment on that and tips his hat. He places his hand on the doorknob to open it.


"Wait!" she calls out again.


"Yes?" he turns back to her to see her approaching.


She gets up on her tippy toes and kisses his cheek.


The contact has a warmth spreading from where her soft lips touched all the way into his chest.


"What was that for?" he asks, a little taken aback by the action.


"Just bidding you farewell," she answers easily. "I always kissed my mama on the cheek before she left."


He nods once and heads out the door with his head swimming. The girl is certainly strange, but he's thinking that maybe he can make this work.

Comment