Unplanned - A RDR2 Fanfic (OCxArthur)

Chapter 8: Crooked Paths

"Guess who I found snoopin' around outside camp?" Bill Williamson half-pulled, half-dragged me to the center of the camp, finally releasing as all eyes bore on me. My heart felt like it was in my throat. 

"Er... hi again." I awkwardly waved. Though I left on good terms with a lot of them, there was a sharper sense of caution and hostility in the air.

"Bet you she was sent as a spy for one of them families," Micah hissed into Dutch's ear, just barely audible to me. He then turned his body towards me, raising his voice: "After all, she's loyal to that church, ain't ya Ms. Monroe? I'd bet my left leg they get some fundin' from one of those Grays or Braithwaites." 

"I-It's not like that, honest." I heard the tremble in my own voice. "I was... look." I sighed lightly grabbed the satchel that hung at my side. "I have some business to take care of with someone 'round here. Besides, you ain't exactly hidin' yourselves in town." Trying to defend too much myself felt like a risky move, but all things considered, they had quite literally deputized themselves -- could they blame me for noticing? 

"It's alright, Dutch." Hosea, the friendly and wise old man who had treated me kindly when I first arrived, walked up and put a hand on his shoulder. "Ms. Monroe is right. We've already made names for ourselves 'round the townspeople, and people talk." 

"I suppose you're right." Dutch's narrowed eyes slightly softened. By now, anyone who had been inside a tent or curled up on a bedroll had gotten up, slowly inching towards the throng. I could practically sense Arthur Morgan straightening himself off his bed, like a looming force in my peripheral vision. 

"What business you mean, anyway?" Bill raised the question with a suspicious tone.

"Maybe she's even scopin' out for the Pinkertons," Micah snickered, waving his hand at me. "Tryin' to put on a generous face and take the money for herself, I'd reckon."

"I--" Before I could properly defend myself, Arthur had sauntered up, the campfire casting an orange hue onto his face. 

"Business with me," he huffed. "We... we worked out a deal awhile back, and she's just repayin' what she owes."

"You told her where camp was?" Micah had spun now to Arthur. 

Arthur shrugged, playing it off though we both knew quite well we had not spoken since the Downes incident. "She seem untrustworthy to you, Micah? I reckon if she were out to get us, she'd have told all the lawmen in New Hanover where we were the day she left. There's money on each head here. And after all that mess in Valentine?"

The murmuring grew quiet. He had a point. 

Was Arthur Morgan actually coming to my defense? Putting his neck on the line just to save my skin? 

"Well... I take it Arthur may just be right about you, Ms. Monroe." Everyone had glanced to Dutch, waiting to see how he would react. I could just feel the authority this man had -- even Micah was looking to see what he'd do. "You didn't rat us out, though I know full well you know who we really are."

"...I do." My fingernails dug into my palm, trying to force my voice steady. "I know it, but... you saved my life. I couldn't... it wouldn't be right." The words sounded just as uncertain as I had felt; is it really justifying to help hide out some outlaws and let them keep robbing and killing folks on their own accord? 

"Maybe then you could help us with some business." Hosea crossed his arms as he broke the brief silence. "Are you familiar with the Grays and Braithwaites?"

"Yes." I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat. "They ain't 'round town much, but everyone here knows 'bout their blood feud." I didn't really let myself time to think. It pretty much felt like I'd help these guys with some information, or I'd be subject to whatever traitor treatment they might conjure up for me.