RDR2: Faithless

20: Country Pursuits

I had never imagined Harry could be silent, but the colour drained from his face as we rode towards my parents house, he looked terrified. I tried my hardest not to laugh, but it was pretty damn difficult.

"Ah, Ann!" my mother looked pleased to see me as we walked in, "And... who is this?"

"Harry Taylor," he kissed my mother's hand and shook my father's, "It's an honour to finally meet you both officially."

"Yes, last time was perhaps not in the best circumstances," my dad chuckled before sending a look my way.

"I... um..." Harry stammered, "I wanted to ask for your permission to, well... to court your daughter."

My eyes widened as I stared at him, was that how things worked? Was that not very sudden? They'd only just met! High society was doomed to remain a mystery to me, I feared, what was wrong with just... meeting up?

"Well, I think you've already started," my mother laughed, her arm wrapped around my father.

"Forgive me, I forgot myself," he said quickly.

"Not at all, I can't imagine Ann reminded you how things work herself," my father said, "But if you want my permission, you have to promise me something, son. Don't you ever hurt her. If you do, you best believe you won't ever do so again."

"No, sir, I'd never dream of it," Harry said sincerely.

"I'm sure Dutch on the night of the party scared him enough already without you doing so as well," I said, rolling my eyes as Harry chuckled sheepishly.

"Well, if Dutch threatened you, I definitely know you won't do anything," my father raised his eyebrow at me, "He knows?"

"She did everything in her power to convince me she was a bad person and I shouldn't waste my time on her," Harry dropped me in it and I glared at him.

"Well, we would be overjoyed to have you as part of the family," my mother told him, "I apologise, I'm getting ahead of myself. Do stay for lunch, please."

So, Harry and I stayed for lunch. I was relieved they got along well, but that wasn't the hard bit. Of course, they would be happy for me whatever, the hard bit would be if Dutch ever found out. And I was not letting that happen any time soon.

I returned to camp to find Dutch and Hosea on the balcony, deep in discussion.

"So, Ann, you get the deciding vote," Hosea said as I approached.

"About what?" I asked.

"We take an insult and scurry off like cockroaches," Dutch told me, "or deal with business the right way."

"We don't need to take revenge," Hosea argued, "We hardly know the guy!"

"This ain't about revenge, Hosea," Dutch said, "Angelo Bronte don't mean shit to me. This is about the fact that we are planning to rob a bank in his town. A bank that he no doubt protects, a town where his men are gunning for us. Before we do that, we need to put him out of commission."

"I disagree. There's always an easier way," Hosea said angrily.

"There ain't no easier way," Dutch was equally angry, "Now, I know his type. He is a vindictive little power broker who rules by fear. Now, we pull that stunt in his cesspit of a town, we're doomed. You wanna leave this place? Leave this country? We need that money."

"It just don't feel good, Dutch," Hosea sighed.

"This is it," Dutch said, ignoring him, "This is the last job that we are ever gonna pull. Before the year is out, we are gonna be harvesting mangoes in Tahiti! Farmers! But we need seed capital and we need to leave. You know it, I know it."