Chapter Text
She couldn't quite pinpoint the moment it all began. Maybe it was when she met Jake? No — he definitely wasn't the cause of why she was there. Despite how open he was about himself, how he accepted her, willing to protect her from their families it was something that was bound to happen. His openness didn't extend only to her, but even strangers too. She should have know that, with living so far away from any human settlement troubles would be unavoidable. She still remembers how Jake’s face lit up hearing the knock on their door, that very same May; few minutes later she was hiding away in the cellar as the O’Driscoll's went through all of their belongings, making themselves comfortable while the one who would have offered them such shelter was now a corpse, freezing away in the snow.
A few weeks later somehow her problems occupying her mind was the almost unbearablely humid weather, each day ever since the gang arrived at Clemens Point. Definitely what wasn't helping is the time of the year they were, just the peak of summer when they ended up moving here. Sadie wasn't used to such weather, growing up in the northern side of the country and later on moving with Jake into the snowy mountains of Ambarino. But Lemoyne was far from her comfort zone. Moreover, as much as she didn't like this comparison, the temperature was much more bearable when the girls from the camp offered her a long tartan dress, now with thick black pants and a long sleeved shirt she might as well boil herself in such condition. And yet she wouldn't change back into the dress, not that it wasn't pretty but seeing how most of the men in the gang belittled her and grouping her up with the women to do camp chores she decided enough was enough, and that final straw came at Pearson's comments. Sadie assumed that it was most reasonable to lunge at the camp’s chef with a knife but Arthur Morgan seemed to think otherwise. At first she continued being in a sour mood but the idea of reading through Pearson's letter he was sending in private did put a smile on her face when she began to read out loud the boastful message the chef was trying to send to his aunt. The outlaw who decided to bring her along did also let out a laugh at that. It was a small part of her plan to prove herself on this mission and she was going to make the most of it. It shouldn't have been a surprise that when she had the opportunity to shoot some raiders trying to rob them, she didn't hesitate to take Arthur's revolver once again and without wasting time on pointless conversation with the other criminals she shot one in the head only to cock the gun once more and shoot another Lemoyne Raider in the neck, not so much of a showoff aim but it was just as fatal. What mattered the most was that after the shootout with remnants for the opposing group she managed to prove herself to Arthur — and so to the majority of the gang members.
That's when everything began to finally start to look better for her. She started going out more and most importantly was finally getting assigned to more demanding jobs — she needed that adrenaline rush just not to dwell on what she lost.
Most of the time however she got the guard duty, some times it was quite entertaining, talking with the other guys in the gang — John and Lenny in particular. Other times it was boring, in silence between the people she was assigned with at the time with a campfire crackling in the distance she would stare off into the distance, daydreaming of what could've been if something had changed, if she had taken any precautions; only to stop once some animal made a sound in the forest or someone had snapped her out of her thoughts — but it was still better than fixing up clothes and taking care of the camp.
Some nights she wished she could have been on the night watch; most of these nights were the ones where she could barely get some shut eye, and so did most of the people camp. It was so loud that it seemed as if crickets stopped chirping. And it was all because of Dutch’s ignorance, Sadie didn’t knew him for a long time but he began to lose her respect with each day. Especially after what Abigail had told her that the gang’s leader seemed to have such a tendency to disregard his younger lovers in order to pursue much younger women. She couldn't grasp the idea of such selfishness to abandon the one relying on him.
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While enjoying her morning coffee with Abigail and Tilly — their unspoken yet, comforting for all of them routine they picked up; Sadie heard a familiar voice with heavy Irish accent addressing Arthur.
“...bad luck?” She managed to overhear the conversation. To which Arthur responded with a small laugh as he suggested to bring Molly another pocket mirror — apparently the one she had was broken. The woman was the most delighted she was since they moved camps, but before she paid just a little attention to her. At least that was before Abigail had brought up her concerns.
Strange. Sadie thought. But after all, who else could she turn to? The girls seemed to dislike her, when one of them mentioned even briefly about the strange nature of Molly's and Dutch's relationship, she would dismiss their concerns or storm off offended.
Sadie dropped the cigarette onto the soil underneath her feet before crushing it with her heel — extinguishing the flame.
Should she call her Miss O’Shea or Molly? For all she heard in those very few months everyone, well almost everyone, seemed to call the woman, Molly behind her back. She recently took notice that she began insisting on being called by her name by Arthur. Sadie, however, didn't know if she could do so or if it was appropriate. She decided to just screw the pretend politeness and get to the point with the conversation.
Sadie's eyes met Molly's emerald gaze — her dress complemented her eyes, the rancher noticed. Before shifting slightly on her feet as she stood by the other woman.
“Heard you broke your mirror.” Sadie started, trying to act nonchalant yet miserably failing at that.
The younger woman followed her every move with her eyes before sweating them downwards back onto the book she was holding in her lap.
“Yes? Has it already turned into gossip?” She asked with a resigned sigh she didn't quite want the other to notice.
Sadie just shook her head, looking back at the girls' tent where Mary-Beth and Karen were still asleep, soon to be woken up. “No. Just happened to overhear.” She looked back again at the other woman, seeing the frown on her face relaxing.
“Oh. I see.”
“Here.” The older woman shifted a little on her feet as she reached into the pocket in her pants, pulling out a small worn down mirror. “You can have mine ‘till you have your own again.”
“Thanks.” The Irish woman replied after a few short seconds that she was processing that. It wasn't that she wasn't grateful for the act; she was. Just couldn't quite express her gratitude towards it, it's been very long since she truly felt seen.
“See you ‘round.” Sadie finally got up adjusting the rifle holster strap on her shoulder before she went away.
Molly however instead of immediately trying to finish getting ready for the day, she held up the mirror in her hand inspecting it. Her fingers brushed against the intricate design that covered the casing. The dirty gold accents on it were barely visible — probably due to its age. On the back side of the casing there were two letters engraved — JS. “
” definitely stood for Sadie yet she wasn't quite sure what the other letter might mean. Maybe she'll ask her when she gets the chance. Yet, she wouldn't actively seek it seeing the company she keeps.
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A few days went by, it was when Sadie decided to contribute something to the camp funds, after seeing how other girls were doing something useful, she too wanted to help out. And more so be able to write it down in the ledger for others to see. Therefore one day she rode away with Bob, found a small homestead just in the vicinity of the town of Rhodes. She used the nearby foliage to wait outside, until seeing a young man who was presumably the owner of the estate leave.
Seeking just this opportunity she swiftly approached the back door of the property, and with a gentle push she managed to quietly enter. She wasn't looking for anything particular, anything she could sell for a decent price would suffice.
As she entered the house Sadie was met with a familiar stench of alcohol, looking around her surroundings she would've assumed it was the kitchen. Yet that wasn't that easy to reduce seeing as the place looked more like a laboratory with the amount of distillers present in one room. No wonder it was the back entrance, easy to hide it and the law probably wouldn't notice.
Without wasting much more time Sadie began looking for any valuables, searching through drawers and cabinets. In the end she found a silver pocket watch along with some jewellery and loosely placed cash. As she headed towards the door she entered through she managed to notice what seems to be another valuable object sitting by the kitchen sink. Sadie immediately went to grab it only to inspect it as she was heading outside she recognised it as a pocket mirror.
Sadie smiled to herself with what she managed to take as she walked away from the property she had just robbed in broad daylight. Heading towards the nearby post she patted Bob before mounting atop of him and together going back to the camp.
Quite impatiently just as she arrived she approached the back of the leader's tent, before opening the box for donations for the first time. What she managed to get wasn't a lot but it was something to contribute nonetheless.
“Here, a mirror for ya.” Sadie followed it up with her open hand reaching out to the other woman as the pocket mirror rested in her palm.
“Thank you.” Molly went back into the main tent for a moment before returning to Sadie with a cigar. “Have this for the trouble.”
“Pffsh. It wasn't any trouble. But thanks.” The woman took the cigar into her own hands, twirling it as she contemplated if what she was about to ask wasn't overstepping anything. “Care to share it?”
“Wouldn't mind, but you know I'm not much of a company.”
“I'll see it for myself then, c’mon. Can't let the others know we're having something good.” Sadie tapped Molly's arm as she went to the nearby cliff side that was overhanging just a few feet above the dirt and gravel surrounding the lake. In front of it there was a fallen log beside the shoreline of the lake.
The newly appointed outlaw sat down on said log, moving her hand to tap the empty space by her side. While Molly made her way to the log, flattening her velvet dress as she was sitting down; Sadie as she took the cigar in between her slightly parted lips she reached for a box of matches. Using a confident motion she lighted up the match before moving her head towards it letting the warmth overtake the end of the cigar.
She breathed in the smoke, filling her mouth with its rich aroma; before offering the cigar to the other woman.
“How is it then?” Molly spoke up, reaching for the cigar that the other was offering to her.
Sadie let out the smoke up into the air. “How's what?”
“Working in the camp. Doing what men are.” She added before she herself felt the familiar warmth in her throat.
“Freeing. Me and my husband usually did what we could, without any restrictions. I was out hunting while he prepared dinner. He was the one getting materials for our ranch and I was the one that was building it at the start. Of course later he joined me.” Sadie laughed a little at that memory, she'll definitely miss it.
Despite the smoke filling up her mouth, Molly finally felt like she could breathe, even if it was only for a short moment. Not having to think about what was going on with Dutch — though the thought was in the back of her mind. She let out a the puff of smoke, turning away from the other woman to blow out the smoke before turning to face her once again. They continued passing the cigar to one another.
“So.” Sadie began as the silence between them lingered for a little bit too long for her liking, before taking the cigar back from Molly, letting herself breathe out the smoke away from the other woman's face. “What’s goin’ on with you and Dutch?”
There it goes again. Molly thought, cursing herself for not noticing it sooner that the other woman had some ulterior motives. “Nothing. I feel like he's changed a bit but then again he has a lot on his shoulder at the moment.” She tried to deflect.
“Right. Doesn't mean he gets to treat you like an accessory.” She said it like it was an obvious comment to point out but despite the nuance it may have brought for Molly's perspective it wasn't enough.
“He doesn't. He loves me. He'll be back to his true self once we get back on our feet.” Molly said so to convince the other — although it may have been mostly what she tried to convince herself of.
“I'm sure you think so.” Sadie muttered. “I’ll probably still be here if you want to talk.” She added as Molly went back to her tent, without looking back.
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That very night, upon seeing Sadie going to the guard duty Molly gathered up the courage to try and fix what had happened. Of course, she wouldn't admit being in the wrong, instead she continued believing the fantasy she wanted to continue living, even if it was on borrowed time.
She felt bad for just storming off just when the woman wanted to give her opinion about it. Seeing she did have a husband, maybe it would be worth hearing her out.
Molly looked back at Dutch who was reading one of the books from his collection, Evelyn Miller — once again probably. The woman didn't feel the desire to ask and attempt to spark a conversation with him. He seemed too invested in the literature to even spare her a moment or a glance.
She hated it.
In her palm she took the pocket mirror that the other woman had lended her, before turning her head towards the small table inside the tent, where just a few flowers were left over from when they arrived this far East into the country. Dutch himself gathered the bouquet for her, a small gesture that meant the world to her — would she ever be able to experience that again from her lover? She brushed off the thought as she picked up a particularly beautiful Spider Orchid, placing it atop of the borrowed mirror. It fitted perfectly together. Without wasting a second she headed outside of the tent, through the back exit — at least this one wasn't notoriously occupied by Dutch.
Molly stopped in her steps.
She looked back at what was in her hand, realising what she was doing, her face grew warmer from the embarrassment. What the hell was she doing? Molly with her other hand threw the flower on the ground, hoping her single stomp upon it, causing it with her shoe would be enough to cover up what she was trying to do. And with a huff of dismissal towards this detail she overlooked she headed to the girl's tent, leaving there the borrowed item.