RUNNING WILD [JOHN MARSTON]

13: brotherly love

clemens point, lemoyne
Uncle was in the midst of singing Ring Dang Doo along to the strums of Javier Escuella's guitar as Rosalie Bell and Karen Jones sat alongside them, laughing at Uncle's singing as Karen joined in occasionally. From above, the sky was a midnight blue, dotted with silver stars and the sounds of crickets chirping into it.
Rosalie stopped singing as the sounds of horses galloping rumbled through the ground. She looked round to see Arthur Morgan and Sean Macguire galloping into the camp, with Sean whooping and laughing loudly. The men hitched their horses as Sean swaggered over to the fire, the confident look appearing on his face as he eyed Karen.

"Oh Miss Karen!" He exclaimed loudly as he sat himself down next to her. "I think I deserve a treat!" He laughed to himself.
Karen looked at Rosalie as the pair rolled their eyes.
"God, what have you boys been up to?" Karen chuckled as she pushed Sean's hands off of her.
"Arthur and I, we torched the Gray's tobacco fields. Miss Rosalie, you'd a' loved it!"
"Then why didn't you invite me?" Rosalie grinned as she playfully swatted Sean, before walking away and leaving him in his attempt to woo Karen once more.

Rosalie took herself over to the half-tent that had herself and Micah's bedrolls in it. The first night that she'd arrived into the gang, she had been so confused and afraid after what she'd been through that she couldn't sleep anywhere but near her big brother. Before she found herself, and learnt how to defend herself, she saw Micah as her only protection. Now, however, it had been almost a week since the siblings had exchanged a single word. They were Bells - which meant stubbornness was their most prolific trait. Rosalie sighed and laid down on her bedroll, letting herself fall asleep.

Rosalie had been awake for a while when Micah Bell appeared from behind a tree, hovering in front of his sister and twirling his revolvers in his hands.
"What you want?" Rosalie mumbled as he came and stood in front of her.
"Get your guns, cowpoke." His gruff voice said to her. "I got a job."
Rosalie stopped sharpening her knife and glared up at her brother.
"Don't call me that." She rolled her eyes at him. "And if you got a job, why don't you go hassle Bill?"
Micah sighed loudly, putting his impatience and annoyance on full display.
"Because, I wanna take my sister out robbin'. You got such a problem with that?"
"What you wanna rob?"
"I mighta' found a stagecoach." Micah remarked, the familiar smug smirk returning to his face.
"You mean, a man told you 'bout a coach, then you shot him in the head." Rosalie looked at her brother.
Micah shrugged slowly. "Somethin' like that."

——
"I know this is your way of sayin' sorry." Rosalie looked to her brother. She watched his horse, Baylock, trot along next to hers as the pair rode through the murky swamps of Bayou Nwa.
Micah let out a loud laugh. "What? I ain't never apologised to anybody in my damn life."
"Micah shut up." Rosalie sighed, losing her patience already. "I don't care 'bout Amos anymore. You and Dutch, this gang? That's what I got now." She said seriously. The tone of her voice turned Micah serious too.
"That's good then. 'Cause Amos is gone. Got a wife, kids, livin' in California."
Rosalie said nothing as she stared at the road ahead of her. This whole time she'd forced herself to believe that Amos was dead, she'd given up hope that there was a better life out there. Now, she wasn't so sure.
"That ain't the life we want, is it? This is who we are." Micah stated proudly as he patted his gun holster. "Over here." He said, pulling his horse to the side of the pathway.

Rosalie Bell loaded a round of bullets into her revolvers as Micah set up dynamite on the pathway, his new found method of successfully robbing a stagecoach.
"Here it is!" He said as he rushed into the trees next to her, positioning himself behind the dynamite trigger.
She watched as the fuse blew, toppling the stagecoach onto its side and sending its guards into a frenzy. Bullets flew as the Bell siblings emerged from the trees, their faces covered by bandannas and their minds set on money. It wasn't long before the few guards were lying on the floor, lifeless and defeated. A cruel grin appeared on Micah's face as he clambered inside of the decorated stagecoach and began rummaging around.
"See if they got anythin' on them." He called out to his sister from inside. Rosalie began wandering around the sprawled bodies, patting them down and taking rings, pocket watches and odd bits of cash that lined their pockets.

"Haha!" Micah chuckled as he climbed out of the broken stagecoach, waving notes of cash around in his hand. "The Bell siblings do it again." He smirked cheekily as he kissed the money in his hand before continuing to wave it around. Rosalie rolled her eyes as her small hand reached out, attempting to take the money from her older brother.
"Ah!" He snatched it away from her. "I'll count you your share when we're back at camp." He winked at his sister as she rolled her eyes, turning herself away from him and walking back to her horse.
"Come on, Micah. We need to get outta' here." She threw her leg over her mount and waited for Micah to climb up onto Baylock.

"Heard Dutch wants you on this train robbery. I'm proud." Micah's sly voice spoke to Rosalie as they began the ride back to Clemens Point.
"Proud? Don't fuckin' patronise me, Micah. I been doin' jobs like this for months."
"I'm just sayin'. It's a big one. Dutch wants us all in on it."
Rosalie said nothing as she rode along next to Micah.
"All of us. Even your buddy Marston."
"My buddy Marston?" Rosalie sneered. Micah was testing her recently, seeing how far he could push his luck with irritating her. He'd somehow managed to work his way right up to the top of the ranks and he wanted everybody to know.
"You been headin' out with him a lot recently." Micah held his hands up in a defensive manner and flashed his familiar smirk, before dropping it and displaying a serious stare. "I'm just warning you." He grumbled. Micah and John had always disliked each other, and they never failed to make it known.
"Or maybe I should warn him?" He snickered. Rosalie was unsure now, of what Micah was getting at. There was no way he could know about John and his sister. He would've pointed a gun at John as soon as he found out.
"I'm just messin'!" He suddenly exclaimed loudly, letting out a boisterous laugh. Internally, Rosalie breathed a small sigh of relief before rolling her eyes at her sibling.
"Fuck you, Micah." She grumbled before speeding her horse up and riding ahead.

——
John Marston's body was flowing with strong whiskey and bourbon, the sharp feeling of the alcohol swimming it's way through his veins, from the edge of his tongue to the tips of his fingers. His ears could only just hear the laughter and conversation from the men drinking around him, but his nose could smell the cigarette smoke and the whiskey.

John's head turned as he heard the trot of horses making their way back into Clemens Point. Rosalie hadn't been in camp for hours and John was hoping it was her coming back. He had reached a point where part of him worried every time she headed out. Many of the men in camp; Arthur, Charles and John himself were beginning to think that the situation with the Grays and the Braithwaite's could go wrong at any point, and John didn't want Rosalie getting hurt. He was too close to her now.

His thoughts were right as the Bell siblings came trotting into camp, hitching their horses next to each other before climbing off and continuing the discussion they seemed to be having. John stood himself up and walked over to the siblings as Micah counted out a wad of cash, placing it firmly into his sister's hands with a proud grin on his face.
"Well done today." He smirked at her.
"I said, don't patronise me." Rosalie rolled her eyes as John appeared next to her.

"Marston." Micah nodded his head at John in a low voice before stalking away from the pair and leaving them stood together.
"John, you gotta be more careful." Rosalie sighed and John rolled his eyes.
"Where you two been?" John grumbled.
"Hit a stagecoach. His way of apologisin'." Rosalie said as her and John walked along the trees and then down onto the shoreline of Flat Iron Lake, where nobody else from camp could hear their conversation.

"You took a job with him after the other day?" John snapped at Rosalie.
"Seriously, John?" Rosalie muttered as she looked around her, double checking that Mary-Beth wasn't around reading, or that Pearson wasn't fishing along the shore. "You need to relax. He's gettin' suspicious already, I don't need you makin' it worse."
"Who gives a shit?" John shouted suddenly, the anger that had slowly been building up finally coming to rise. He hated Micah, and he was starting to wonder why he had cared so much about a reaction from the man. Micah Bell had no say over Rosalie or John's decisions and John was no longer worried about him learning of any of those decisions.
"John, please." Rosalie looked up at him with pleading eyes. "You don't know what he's like. Please."
John sighed, watching Rosalie's face relax as he nodded.
"Fine. Fine, but I can't hold my tongue around that man for much longer, Rosalie."