“So, it was the O’Driscoll Gang who killed Jake?
And these people are the ones who saved you.”
Inside the rundown cabin, Stephen sat by the fire as Sadie bandaged his arm.
He spoke with a hint of awkwardness.
“So… I guess that means I fought them for nothing last night.”
Sadie shook her head, a little helpless.
“You’re too impulsive.”
Stephen cleared his throat, trying to cover his embarrassment.
“Yeah… won’t happen again.” He quickly changed the subject.
“So, Miss Adler… what are you planning to do next?
Are you going to stay with the Van der Linde Gang?”
“Call me Sadie.
Adler is dead.”
Sadie clenched her jaw as she spoke.
“They saved me.
I can’t just walk away.
And they’ve got their own score to settle with those O’Driscoll Gang scum…”
Stephen nodded.
“I understand.”
If they shared a common enemy, then working together was an option.
The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
“Alright.
For now, just rest a few days.” Sadie trimmed away the extra bandage and secured his arm.
Her voice softened slightly.
“With how strong you are, you’ll probably recover quickly.
I still remember when Jake and I found you.
You were covered in wounds.
We both thought you weren’t going to make it… but somehow you did.”
She was talking about when Stephen had first arrived in this world.
Back then, he had four gunshot wounds and countless other injuries from being battered around in the wild.
Yet he recovered in just a month.
Even Stephen did not really understand it.
He just treated it as a strange advantage he had.
Over the past two years, he had learned to make use of that advantage.
A fighting style where he traded injuries for the kill.
It was not something most people could imitate, or even think of.
“I… I’m sorry I came late, Sadie.” Stephen lowered his voice.
“I wasted too much time in the mountains.”
“It’s not your fault.” Sadie patted his shoulder.
“Don’t blame yourself.
That’s on those O’Driscoll Gang bastards.”
As they spoke, two women walked in with a child.
One of the younger women immediately exclaimed when she saw Stephen.
“Wow, so you’re the one who took down Arthur and the others?
And you knocked all of Micah Bell’s teeth out?
You don’t look like it at all!”
She had blonde hair and a very… full figure.
She leaned in close, clearly curious about him.
“Uh… I’ll take that as a compliment.” Stephen leaned back slightly.
“And about hitting that guy… sorry about that.”
“My name’s Karen.
Nice to meet you.” She stuck out her hand casually.
“No need to apologize.
Plenty of us can’t stand Micah Bell.
That guy’s mouth is pure filth.
Someone should’ve dealt with him a long time ago.”
“Stephen.
Stephen Johnson.” He shook her hand.
Her grip was firm, and he could feel the calluses on her palm.
Judging by them, she was a gunfighter too.
Not surprising.
Out here, nobody survives without a few skills.
“I’m Abigail.
And this is my son, Jack.” The other woman smiled gently, every bit the picture of a mother.
“Sorry to ask, but could you step outside for a bit?
We have some… women’s matters to take care of.”
“Yeah, of course.” Stephen nodded and headed out.
Daylight had already come, but the snow had not stopped.
The sky hung low and heavy, and thick clumps of snow struck his face with a dull sting.
Outside, the white horse stood tied near the door, staring at him with bright, alert eyes.
It seemed perfectly at ease in the cold.
Stephen walked over, took out a brush, and began cleaning the snow and ice from its coat.
The horse let out a soft, contented sound.
As he worked, scenes from the previous night replayed in his mind.
Thinking back, it had been dangerously close.
This small gang really was full of capable people.
There was the heavyset fighter who could withstand three of his strikes, and that gunslinger who forced him into a life-or-death exchange.
Even the man who had been harassing Sadie at the start had remarkable draw speed and reflexes.
Last night, it looked like he had overwhelmed them, but that was only because he struck first.
If it had been a straight fight, he might not have won.
There is always someone stronger.
Things had gone too smoothly for him this past year.
He had grown a little too confident.
As he was reflecting, footsteps approached from behind.
He turned and saw the gunslinger from last night.
“Want one?”
The man had a cigarette in his mouth and a lit match in his hand.
He walked over, glancing at Stephen brushing the horse.
“Why not?” Stephen took the cigarette and lit it using the match, taking a slow drag.
“Arthur Morgan.
And you?”
“Stephen Johnson.
bounty hunter.” Stephen answered plainly.
“You’re good.
I’ve never seen shooting like that.”
It was not flattery.
Arthur’s performance last night had left a real impression.
Handling an ordinary revolver with that level of precision was something he had only ever seen in stories.
Arthur lowered his head slightly, letting out a stream of smoke.
“You’re not bad yourself.
I’ve never seen one man catch our whole gang off guard like that.”
They looked at each other.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then both of them burst out laughing.
The white horse nearby tilted its head, watching the two of them curiously.
“Hah, this is something.” Stephen smiled.
“By the way, that guy from last night… Micah Bell, right?
He’s alright?”
“The one whose teeth you knocked out?” Arthur waved it off.
“Don’t worry about him.
Nobody likes that loudmouth.
He had it coming.”
Seems Karen was right.
Stephen shrugged, still a little curious how someone could be so disliked by his own people.