Chapter Text
New Hanover, 1898
Dear Hosea…
I stand by the stream with my eyes focused on the slowly flowing water.
I feel calm.
The weather is brisk this morning, but the gentle rays of the sun that have just broken through the clouds keep my cheeks warm, and I smile at the blissful feeling that fills my body.
I know it won't last forever. Moments like that never last, but it doesn't stop me from enjoying them whenever I have a chance.
I am writing to you with great fear as my days are already counted.
I am aware I should not be out here.
I am aware I should not disappear from the camp without a word, but explaining to Hosea every time I need some time alone is exhausting.
He will most likely be mad at me, but at the time being, when I am surrounded only by silence, I don't want to care about it much.
It's just me and my thoughts.
My little daughter… You know what happened to her mother. You were there when it happened, Hosea, so I suppose I don’t need to get into unnecessary details.
After a while, I crouch to wash my face with ice-cold water and brush back my hair that nearly reaches my shoulder blades. I then lick my lips and hear the sounds of someone sneaking up on me.
I'm not scared, though.
There is no single soul in the woods, so whoever it is, they had to follow me here from the camp, and I already have my assumption about who it might be.
The thing is that my daughter is not so little anymore. Nevertheless, I can’t imagine leaving her without anyone watching her as she grows up. She’s a woman now, but she’s still a child. My child.
“Who’s there?” I ask, but do not turn around.
“It’s me, John.” I hear the raspy voice behind me. “What are you doing here so early?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” I reply as he approaches and stands beside me. “I don't sleep well lately. I can’t find a place for myself, and tossing and turning in bed isn’t my thing.”
“Oh, I think I got you. Jack’s been having trouble sleeping lately, too, so we have to get up every two hours. Well, mostly Abigail has to because I… Well, as you can see, I’m here, trying to get some rest.” John says, then takes a deep breath. “It’s so damn quiet here.”
“It really is,” I agree with him.
I know that he recently returned to the gang after some time away from his family, so I feel he understands my need to disappear for a while from time to time.
What I think of him as a parent is a different topic, though. However, I don't think I'm capable of judging him, especially since John has always been far from doing it towards me. “So, um, how are things with Abigail?”
“Decent,” he returns, “but please, let’s not talk about that. It’s too early. I want to have this one smoke without thinking about things waiting for me back in the camp.” He pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his trousers and offers me one.
“I’m good,” I smile at him.
“Are you?” He doesn’t sound convinced. “You know, I didn’t come here to lecture you. Life can be tough, but I guess… I want you to know you have people you can talk to, and Hosea is not the only one who’s there to listen.”
“I… Thank you,” I reply while I watch John lighting up a cigarette and taking a long drag. The smoke leaves his nostrils as he exhales, and he sends me a smirk. “I appreciate that you're not pushing me to talk.”
“If I’m honest, I see no point in that,” he responds, and then we both stand at the edge of the stream, enjoying the silence.
I need someone to look after her. To be there for her when she’s in need, and love her as much as I do. I know it’s not possible, as I love her the most, but if there’s anyone who could love her as I do, it’s you.
“Are you always this quiet?” John speaks up at some point, dragging me out of my thoughts.
“No, I usually talk more, but… I don’t know. I’ve been with you for a few months, but the last few days have been… Weird. I think I realized it’s nearly been a year since my father…”
I can not force this word out of my mind.
Not that I deny it.
I just can not say it.
“I miss him a lot these days. More than I usually am,” I add, not wanting to leave my previous sentence unfinished. “I miss that small cabin we used to live in together. I miss the… Woods, and the stream that goes through it. Huh. Maybe that’s why I come here so often. To keep all these memories vivid.”
I know you’re not my brother. Not by blood, that’s certain, but it doesn’t change the fact that I treat you like one. All the things we have been through and the fact you’re my daughter's godfather… It has to mean something.
“Can I give you a piece of advice?” John asks, and I nod in response. “Some memories are better if they are left bland. I mean… They don’t hurt you so much every time they cross your mind.”
“Well, I don’t think that particular memory will ever become bland,” I reply sadly, “and that might be the biggest issue.”
“Maybe it just needs more time,” he says, then throws the cigarette butt on the ground and smashes it with his boot.
“Speaking of time, I bet Hosea already noticed you’re gone. I guess it’s just a matter of minutes until he asks someone to search for you or does it himself,” he adds. “He'll also be pissed, as usual, when you disappear without a word.”
“You might be right, but... Not if I return with you,” I say, and John gives me a suspicious look. “What? Hosea will be less mad if he sees us together. Who knows, maybe he will think I’m making acquaintances?”
“You don’t want Hosea to send someone to look for you, do you?”
Now I look at him suspiciously. “What are you implying?”
“What am I implying?” he repeats. “Absolutely nothing.”
Take care of her, Hosea, because I will no longer be there to do it myself. Please. It’s the last wish I will ever have, and it’s the wish I won’t ever be able to repay you for.
Take care of my daughter.
For a second, it crosses my mind to ask John what he truly means, but I decide not to get into it. “I don’t want Hosea to worry so much. These few months have been hard for him, too. Frankly, I didn't make it easier for him, so I need him to see I’m doing good now. Well, at least better than I’ve been lately.”
“I doubt he believes you, but here goes nothing,” John shrugs, then waits for me as I catch up with him.
“He could not believe me if I was alone, but I’ll be with you,” I counter, walking side by side with him through the forest. “Appearances can make a huge difference.”
“The day hasn’t even started for good, and I’m already being used,” he states, but I know he does not take it personally.
“It’s for a good cause… Hosea’s inner peace,” I tell him, and he laughs.
“I don’t want to disappoint you, but his inner peace had been gone before you joined us, Miss—”
“Please, just call me Prim,” I cut in. “My acquaintances call me that.”
“As you wish,” he replies shortly, and it’s the last thing he says on our way back to the camp.
I do not mind the silence, so we walk without saying a word to each other; the tall trees surround us, just like the never-ending colours of the flora. I can feel the morning cold is still here as, with every breath, steam escapes our mouths, but I do not mind.
The walk is short, so we are reaching the camp before I know it, and I am welcomed by Hosea’s even colder glare.
“Look who’s back.” I hear him saying, and I have no doubts he is far from being pleased.
“Uncle, I—” I start to avoid the inevitable, but he cuts in after I open my mouth.
“Where have you been, Prim?” I clench my hands on the fabric of my burgundy skirt, preparing to be lectured in a matter of seconds.
“We went fishing, Hosea,” John says, and that is when I realize he is still standing by my side. “She’s not much of a fisherman, though, so we return empty-handed.”
“Fishing?” The older man seems confused and then gives us both a questioning look.
“As John said, I’m not a fisherman, but I wanted to try. I should’ve told you, and I’m sorry I didn’t.” I feel bad for lying straight into Hosea’s eyes, but since John gives me a chance to excuse myself, I will be a fool if I don’t use it.
“Someone said fishing?” I turn my head back at the sound of a loud voice and see a dark-haired man in a fancy vest and pants coming in our direction. “Remember the good old days when we spent hours by the water, Hosea? I bet we could teach your goddaughter how to fish in no time.”
“I doubt she wants to spend time with old men like us, Dutch,” Hosea returns as the other man joins us.
“Speak for yourself, friend. I ain’t old,” Dutch responds, then turns towards me. “Next time, sweetheart, let us know, especially Hosea, that you’re leaving the camp with someone, alright?”
“I will, Dutch." My reply is shot because I do not feel like over-explaining myself to them; John excused us both, so I do not think there is much more needed. “Can I go now? I could really use some coffee."
“Go ahead,” Dutch says, and I feel dismissed; I send them both a grateful smile, then walk away while John follows my steps until we reach the fireplace in the middle of the camp.
“You're gonna walk away without thanking me for what I just did?” he asks when I reach for the coffee pot.
“Thank you for protecting me from Hosea’s wrath,” I reply as I pour myself a cup, “but he knows the truth, John. He is not a fool.”
“Does it matter? He spared you the lecture. He spared us a lecture, which I think is good.”
“Maybe, but I’ll have to go fishing with him and Dutch when the first opportunity comes.” I blow at the warm liquid in a cup I hold before I take a sip.
“Think of it as another way to restore Hosea’s inner peace,” John mocks. “Besides, you might learn something once you go with him.”
I let out a puff in response since the idea of spending my mornings fishing with Hosea and Dutch does not exactly suit me.
“Well, I better go and check whether Abigail needs anything. Hopefully, she believes in the same story Hosea and Dutch did without lecturing me first,” he adds, then directs his steps towards his tent.
“You’ll handle this. I believe in you,” I tell John, and he sends me a wink. “I’ll see you around.”
“You bet,” he tells me, and I watch him walking away and greeting Abigail just as he reaches her and Jack; he caresses the boy's head, and I find that sight heartwarming.
However, I do not look at them long as I know to take care of my business instead of others, and just as I move my sight away, I catch the sight of someone else’s.
Arthur’s.
He sits by his tent and watches me with a little smirk on his face while I can’t help but wonder what caused it. Maybe I do not want to know the reason behind it; it does not matter what he thinks, but I would lie if I said that a part of me is not curious.
However, I also know this curiosity will guide me nowhere.
As a man, he’s undeniably handsome. His broad shoulders and well-built body make it hard for me to not look at him sometimes, especially since we live together and share the same space. For me, though, what I like the most about his appearance is his blue eyes and the way he smiles when John tells one of his unfunny jokes.
I think it’s all about the details.
Although, I also think what I like about Arthur does not matter as his heart already belongs to some girl named Mary.
I do not know much about her, but this fact is enough for me to keep my distance and the relationship between us strictly… Friendly.
It's not that Arthur and I talk much, anyway. He’s been distant from the start, but I don’t blame him. I guess it is just the way things are between us, and I try not to seek alternative explanations.
“Miss Primrose.” Still, my thoughts have to be far away as before I know it, Arthur is a few steps away from me, and I did not register him coming in my direction earlier.
“Mister Morgan,” I say once he stops beside me. “Did something happen?”
“Is it true? Did you and John go fishing?” he asks, catching me off guard with his question. “I heard the conversation you had with Hosea and Dutch.”
“Um, yes.” I know I should not lie, but if I tell the truth, John's version of the story will fall like a house of cards. “Didn’t catch anything, though.”
“Figured,” Arthur replies, then lets out a chuckle. “I guess you should’ve asked for a better teacher. John’s a poor fisherman.”
“Perhaps.” I shrug. “I’ll keep that in mind for the next time. Well, now that Hosea knows, I bet he’ll want to teach me himself.”
“That’s possible,” he says, and for a few seconds, he looks straight at me. I try not to get shy, but I feel the warmth on my cheeks and the desire to get where his eyes can’t reach me.
“I better get down to work. Chores ain’t gonna get done themselves,” I tell Arthur before he can get any other word out. “You're probably busy, too—”
“Yes,” he cuts in, and I feel this conversation is somehow uncomfortable for both of us. “I’ve got some business to take care of, but… If you ever felt like sneaking out to go fishing, just let me know. John might not be a fisherman, but I’m rather decent.”
“I think my days of sneaking out are about to end, but thank you for the offer,” I return, trying to hide the fact that now I feel slightly embarrassed.
“Hosea will have to get used to it at some point. He can’t control you forever, even if he has good intentions,” Arthur states, then adds: “Alright, I’ll leave you to do your chores and coffee. I suppose it’s already cold, though.”
I nod at him in response with a light smile on my face then I remind myself of the coffee I still hold in my hand.
The fact it is cold does not bother me much, though.