“This is it.” You stopped your horse at the edge of a wooden bridge.
“This?” John pulled Old Boy’s reins. “Coach will be comin’ this way?"
"Yep."
"Aint this bridge too narrow for that?” Knitting his brows doubtfully together John assessed the width of the bridge. It was narrow indeed.
“I got a fine lead, Dutch confirmed I can trust it."
"If you say so. When will Arthur and Charles arrive?"
"Soon.” Looking up you scanned the horizon impatiently.
Suddenly you heard loud thundering hooves and shooting, yelling. It seemed like the other gang members were faster than the two of you thought.
“I think they just arrived. C'mon!” Spurring your horse you went ahead. The bridge was old and perilous, but the water under it shallow, calm. Even if somebody fell in it they wouldn’t get hurt too much. At least not fatally. For that, there was the chance of getting shot. "Look out ‘round the water!“
"Real funny.” Scoffed John, but secretly he held onto his horse’s reins just a bit tighter.
“Just be safe."
A soft blush crept up to Johns’s cheeks. He was very fond of you, although he wouldn’t admit that to you. Mostly because of Abigail just to keep things calm around camp. They still fought all the time, his newfound love would only complicate things even further.
The stagecoach got closer, four frightened horses pulling it nearly missing the bridge.
"Hold on!” Arthur galloped through the river to reach you faster as soon as he noticed your presence. “Damn O'Driscols got an eye on this coach too.”
“What?” Spinning around you saw the rival gang’s members stopping the coach already at your side of the water, shooting the driver cruelly in the head.
“Heard it right."
"We can still get to them,” Hosea stated beckoning you to follow.
“Alright.” You loaded your gun and aimed it at the O'Driscols. “Kill 'em all!”
“That’s it!” Arthur agreed with you and Hosea. But John hesitated, the job became too risky all of a sudden.
“(y/n) I don’t…”
“Grab your gun John.” Cantering into the middle of the growing scuffle your blood boiled with the desire to fight. There weren’t many O'Driscols, a few really, still more than the four of you. Arthur proved to be a great aid, so did Hosea while trouble found John more often than usual. He focused on your well being forgetting to look out for himself. He didn’t notice the O'Driscol sneaking on him and jerking his leg so he fell out of the saddle, losing his gun in the process.
You were quick to help, pulling a knife out of your pocket you kept there for close combat situations. However, the man, much stronger than you, thrust forward grabbing onto the saddle horn just reaching high enough to hit your belly. John didn’t waste a second shooting your attacker and catching the reins of your horse not to buck you off in fear. The fight subsided with the last enemy getting killed.
“(y/n) are you alright?” Arthur rode next to you, worry written all over his features.
“Not quite.” The fabric of your shirt was already sodden with blood. “Damn bastard got me…”
“Let me help you down.” John held onto your thighs to keep you in balance while making an attempt to stop the bleeding with his free hand.
“No.” Hosea stopped him. “More men are coming, she has to get out of here."
"There is to many of 'em, we need more guns,” Arthur reminded him Arthur.
“You got the money?” You asked, speaking in a drawled manner. Your eyelids became heavier and heavier because of the loss of blood. “Give it to me, I’ll take it back to camp.”
“Here.” Placed the heavy bag in your lap John.
Taking a deep breath you turned your horse towards the bridge, pulling together all your remaining strength.
“Wrong way (y/n).” Tried to warn you Hosea, but you just spurred the steed under you and started to gallop right against the O'Driscols
John shouted frantically after you, but Arthur held him back. He already realized your intentions of sacrificing yourself for their safety.
The O'Driscols stopped for a second, changing perplexed looks, however as soon as one of them spotted the money bag in your hand they went after you.
Devastated, John escaped Arthur’s hold.
“I have to go after her.” His stomach twisted into knots with worry, he feared he might faint. What will he do without you if you die saving him?
“No.” Hosea forbid him. “There is a chance for her gettin’ back to camp."
”(y/n) is hurt!“ Exasperatedly he tried to convince his friends to go after you.
"She can handle herself. C'mon!” Arthur handed John his horse whom he managed to catch in the meantime. “You can wait for her after we get back to Blackwater.”
And John waited for you. Days went by, he kept counting them but the hope faded in his soul second by second. After a month he let you go with an aching forever broken heart.
Comments