Chapter Text
The first time Hosea ever saw her, the girl had been seven and perched on a wooden fence, watching the fighting competition. She had purple flowers tucked into her dark braid, like a fairy. He doesn’t remember the town, only that it was small, nor whatever job it was Dutch had coerced him into. But he will never forget the concentration on her face. The two fellas in the circle fought differently. Where the bigger man fought with brute strength and frenzied punches, the other man fought with speed. He’d duck and side-step until an opening appeared before throwing a punch and then retreating. Back and forth he went like some spritely bird with clever eyes and quick fists. Hosea had to admit that this man was a good fighter, even if he lost to a cheap hit.
The girl had watched him like a hawk.
She didn’t move even as the next pair of fighters stepped up. This time it was a pair of cock-sure fools swinging their weight around. Hosea noted how the girl’s hands tightened on the wooden fence as he leaned against it a few feet from her.
“Now I ain’t no expert on young ladies, but this don’t seem the kind of place young ladies should be.” He says it casually, calmly, as if she were a horse about to spook.
“I’m learning.”
“Learning? What are you learning from here?”
“Fighting,” she says as if Hosea is being foolish. She’s less tense now but she still looks ready to run. “What’re you here for?”
“I’m learning too, young lady. What’s got you so interested in fighting, eh? There must be better things for you to learn.”
“I can’t keep running from my brother. Not if he’s got his friends with him.”
Something bitter and angry clouds the young girl’s face, makes her look older and meaner. It breaks Hosea’s heart a little.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Ava. Yours?”
“Hosea.”
“That’s a funny name.”
“Is it? I suppose for people who haven’t heard it before. Where’s your parents, Ava?”
“Ma’s out with Mr Thorpe. They got Louise with them.”
“Louise?”
“My little sister.”
“And what about this brother of yours? Where’s he?”
“At home with his nasty friends. Thought it’d be safer to stay away till Ma and Mr Thorpe got back.”
Hosea hummed, watching the young Ava wipe her tears from her eyes a little too roughly. It was then that he noticed the red handprint on her wrist, not the size of a man’s but certainly not her own. Her brother’s, he reckoned with anger burning in the back of his throat.
They watched the next few fights together. Every now and then, Hosea pointed out a move that could’ve avoided a hit or another way to block. Ava doesn’t say anything, but Hosea knew she was listening. Her head tilted towards him each time he spoke and nodded at every piece of advice. It was nice, Hosea thought, to have a young one to teach, even if it was about fighting. Bessie would’ve loved it too.
When the fights were over, Hosea turned to ask Ava if she needed someone to take her home. She wasn’t there, gone so quietly he hadn’t noticed. But there was a little purple flower sitting on the fence where she had been.
It remained in the lapel of his vest until it accidentally fell out after a hasty escape from the law.
~
When Dutch met Ava, he was immediately fascinated.
Hosea and himself had just left a meeting with a very foolish, confident business owner who just happened to have a lot of money and in need of a new consultant. So, there was Dutch and his associate, ready and very willing to help.
“Now all we gotta do is get him to invest in your mining company,” Dutch said, happy with himself and Hosea’s little act they put on.
“As long as he doesn’t travel south anytime soon.” Hosea was a little quiet. Had been for the past few days. He knew about the little girl, the one whose flower sat in Hosea’s lapel, Hosea had told him everything. And as sad as the girl’s plight had sounded, Dutch knew that she was one among hundreds, and that he’d probably never meet the little girl who wanted to learn how to fight.
But then fate had come along and dropped her right in front of them. Dutch’s hand was at his hip, ready to pull his revolver out. Hosea was the same but then he smiled and laughed a little at the sight before them. The little girl had jumped over the wooden fence between the two shops beside them and landed in an awkward tangle of skirts and legs.
“Stupid thing,” she hissed and tugged the fabric away from her legs so she could stand. Only when her unruly mop of brown hair was shoved away from her face did Ava finally see them. There was dirt on her face and a red, angry bruise on her cheek as well as a cut on her lip. But the smile she flashed Hosea cancelled all of that out.
“Miss Ava,” Hosea said with a newfound brightness. “What’re you doing leaping over fences?”
“Running,” she answered matter-of-factly. The look she cast Dutch was more curious than cautious, but he didn’t believe for a second that the little girl wasn’t on guard.
“Ah, allow me to introduce my friend, Dutch. He might look scary, but he’s got a heart of gold.” Normally, Dutch would be annoyed at such an introduction, but when the little girl smiled at him, all teeth and cheek, he can’t bring himself to feel as such.
“I’m Ava,” she announced confidently, reaching out her hand like a gentleman. Dutch chuckled a little and obliged her.
“A pleasure to meet you, sweetheart.” He took her hand and brushed a quick kiss over her scraped knuckles that were already bruising. She smiled to hide the wince.
“How’d you get so scruffy looking, huh?” Hosea asked. It was then that they heard yelling and rushed footsteps approaching. Dutch turned around to find a small group of boys, four or five, rush around the corner of the gun store. Ava tensed at Dutch’s side with an angry scowl on her face. She looked about ready to fight before he stepped in.
“Now what’s the meaning of this?”
“Whatever that girl said, sirs, is a lie.!” One of them piped up. All of them were rough-looking and red in the face, huffing from exertion.
“Really?” He asked and looked down amusedly at Ava. “All she told us was her name.”
“Sir,” another boy said, stepping forward. He struggled to hide both the anger and fear on his face. It was then that Dutch noticed the bruise on his cheek and swollen eye. “That’s my sister you’ve got there.”
“You’re her brother?” It was surprising how even Hosea, for all his tricks and charm, couldn’t keep his own anger from his tone.
“I am, sir. And Pa said that she’s to come home with me.”
“Is that so?” Dutch replied, dropping his voice. There was something about the way this boy had glared at Ava, as if she were some disgusting insect, that pissed him off. “You wanna explain how she got this bruise on her? Or that cut?”
The boys hesitated, shuffling where they stood like a flock of birds. Hosea watched Dutch out of the corner of his eye while he reached back to put a reassuring hand on Ava’s shoulder.
“We don’t want no trouble,” the brother answered.
“I don’t remember offering some. Why don’t you run off with your friends and we’ll take care of your sister? Wouldn’t want her getting hurt more, would you?”
“She ain’t yours to worry about.”
“I ain’t worried, boy. But she might need her injuries looked at and me and my associate here are more than happy to make sure she gets seen to.”
“Ava, get here.” The boy snapped, realizing that Dutch wasn’t one to mess with. “Ma wants us home, remember?”
“I ain’t going with you,” she said with a sharp growl. “I’ll make it home by myself.”
“Listen to your brother,” another one of the boys hissed.
“Shut your Bo, I ain’t going.”
“You heard the little lady,” Dutch intervened. “Run along now. Don’t want no trouble like you said, right?”
Dutch made a show of his gun, tapping gently at the holster and it had the boys running. It took a moment for him to realize that he may have caused Ava more trouble; but the girl was smiling.
“Thank you,” she said as if threatening her brother was the kindest act imaginable.
“I hope our intervening don’t cause you problems at home.”
Ava shrugged, “Mr Thorpe don’t like us causing trouble. I just gotta stay out of Michael’s way till dinner.”
“And who’s this Mr Thorpe?”
“Michael and Louise’s father. Louise and I share our mother, Michael’s died a few years back.”
“That explains his blonde hair.” Hosea remarked, still with a hand on Ava’s shoulder.
“Well, if you’re needing to avoid him, why don’t we take you to a show? There’s one on soon at the theatre.” Dutch offered, proud of himself for making Ava jump from excitement.
“Really? Is that okay?”
“As long as you’re okay with it, little lady.”
“I ain’t a lady.”
“No, not with those roughened knuckles, you’re not.” Hosea chuckled and took hold of one of her hands. Dutch took the other.
That afternoon, Ava had sat quietly, enraptured by the show; from the magician to the singer, the sword juggler and the lion tamer. Dutch found himself more entertained by Ava’s reactions and his applause was both for the performers and her. When they walked her home, Hosea had continued to keep her entertained with his stories about Greek heroes. She especially like the one about the man who spent a decade fighting gods and nature to get home to his family.
“You were right, Hosea.” Dutch had announced once they dropped Ava off, bittersweet by her departure.
“I always am. But what’s it about this time?”
“Ha! How modest you are! I mean about Ava. She’s surely something.”
“I told you, Dutch.”
“That you did, Hosea. That you certainly did.”
~
The first time Bessie had met Ava, the girl was an orphan.
She had clung to Hosea’s hand as they approached the house, one they had taken over from a drunken farmer, quiet and grim faced. There were tear tracks along her ruddy cheeks and they collected at the tip on her trembling chin.
“Bessie,” Dutch called, tense and visibly angry. “Would you mind helping our young lady here into a bath, then perhaps some food.”
“Of course,” she had answered, knowing that now wasn’t the time for questions. Bessie looked down to Ava who seemed unable to look away from the dirt. “Come with my, dearie, let’s get you clean and fed, hm?”
Ava didn’t move. She was shaking at Hosea’s side and more tears tumbled from her painfully red eyes. Bessie moved to take a step forward but then Dutch was there, crouched
in front of Ava with a large hand on her little shoulder.
“You’re safe now, Ava, you hear me? We’ll be taking care of you from now on. Anything you need, you ask us or Miss Bessie here, alright? We can be your family now, if you’re okay with that.”
The little girl stared at Dutch for a moment, scared and unsure, before stepping forward. Bessie’s own heart tightened at the sight of little Ava leaning into Dutch for a hug. This dangerous, lying, thieving outlaw was comforting such a helpless little girl. There was a conflicting look on Hosea’s face too, like he knew that this was both something wonderful and terrible. But Dutch had made a decision and, as far as Bessie was concerned, Ava would be with them for the foreseeable future. Maybe even longer.
“Come along little miss, let’s see if we can get that dirt off you.” This time, Ava took Bessie’s offered hand and followed without complaint. Neither of them said anything about how quickly Hosea and Dutch had launched into a discussion, mentioning Ava several times while they remained within earshot. “We’ll get a tub heated up for you, probably the smaller one, seeing as you’re so little. And we’ll have to find you something to wear while we wash those clothes of yours.”
“Yes ma’am,” Ava said in a quiet voice.
“Ma’am? Now we’ll have none of that. You call me Bessie and do as you’re told, we’ll get along just fine. How does that sound?”
Once again, Bessie’s chest tightened, but there was nothing ill about it. Not when Ava smiled at her like Bessie had just given her whatever it was little girls dreamed of.
“Yes Bessie.” This time, Ava’s voice was more confident, sure. Her steps lightened a little, but her hand remained tightly wrapped around Bessie’s fingers.
Bessie smiled back, “That’s my girl.”
~
The first time Arthur met Ava, he was a nervous wreck.
He’d been riding with Dutch and Hosea for just over a week. They’d met Arthur at the worst point of his life like a pair of unlikely heroes. Dutch’s speech had sounded way too good to be true, most of it too grand for Arthur to fully understand. But he believed it, every single word. And he knew that he’d follow Dutch anywhere, for as long as he could.
As they traveled back to the house they’d procured for a few months now, a big enough farmhouse away from the town, Dutch told Arthur all sorts of things. The main one that stuck in Arthur’s head was Dutch’s little girl, Ava.
The way this man had gushed about her, his smile never dropping as he did so, spoke volumes about how important she was. A little princess, protected by one of the most ruthless outlaws Arthur had ever met, and he was going to be her big brother. Not daunting at all.
Ava had been hiding beside Bessie’s skirts when Dutch finally introduced them; so caught up in the plans he had for Arthur already forming in his head. However, all Arthur’s nerves had seemed to flitter away when Ava stepped forward to shake his offered hand.
“I’m Ava,” she had said, shifting from shy to confident between on breath and the next.
“Arthur Morgan. I’m going to be your big brother, if that’s alright with you.”
Ava had looked at Dutch first, as if asking for permission, before nodding.
For years, long after their first meeting, Arthur could never understand what it was that changed him. As if there was something that clicked within him, something that finally made sense even if he could never figure it out. Arthur smiled at Ava like he had known her for all his life. Maybe they did, from another life before this one. Or maybe it was the mix of adorable and wild he saw within her. But most likely, it was because of how she smiled back at him as if she had felt just as he did.
TBC