It feels like their time with the Van Der Linde gang was naught but a bad dream; friend against friend, brother against brother – a whole fucking mess that most of them had jumped ship when they realised that the far fetched dream of Tahiti, freedom and the idealisation of living right outside the boundaries of the law was about to turn sour. Anne’s grin is ear to ear, welcoming as one can be in a dress dirtied from scrubbing the floors at the nearby saloon. It wasn’t glamorous work, but it put food in the bellies of herself and her own son, partially pay for the roof over their heads and clothes on their backs. “I swear it feels like people from the past are all showin’ up to say hello,” she grins.
“Jack was always a bright wee lad, like. He still readin’ them books? The Penny Dreadfuls if I’m rememberin’ right?” She had a few of them up on the wonky sheds of her own home, though they were layered in a sprinkling of dust, untouched due to the lack of time and partly because her own little boy’s interest careened off to digging in the dirt and ruining whatever she’d put on his back that morning. “ I’m doin’ fine, got a wee lad of my own as I’m sure y’know; I work over in the saloon turnin’ down the beds and that. Ain’t the fanciest, but it’s a grand sight better’n gettin’ shot at. At least I reckon that’s what I’m supposed to say since I’m a woman on the right side of the law nowadays.” Anne laces her fingers with Abigail’s and pulls her in for a hug. “How’re you and the old man doin’? Last I heard he was buildin’ over on that bit’a land no one was lookin’ to buy.”
The past has funny ways of creeping up on them, doesn’t it? Just when she thought she was about to put it behind her, people appear to remind her of those days. Abigail should know better than ANYONE that the past can never be forgotten ---- the jests and bitter words that people in the gang once spoke. She’s a lady of the night, a harlot...she heard those words far too many times for her liking. She tried to swallow her rage, keep it locked in a chest inside herself, but it was only a matter of time before she EXPLODED... But those days are gone now, and with it, the girl Abigail was. She smiles to her friend at her comment, chuckling slightly. ❝ It ain’t all bad ---- seein’ old friends from then. ❞
❝ Jack’s still readin’, but not those Penny Dreadfuls. He still has 'em, but he’s moved on to other stuff. There’s this...tale, about a King Arthur and a Lancelot and a round table that he really enjoys...And westerns too. I have a place NEARBY if you want to have dinner with us ; you and your boy. ❞ She knows far too well how it feels to be in Anne’s shoes. To have a little one and trying to work to provide for them at the same time can get difficult. ❝ MOTHERIN’ and tryin’ to make ends meet ain’t easy, ‘m afraid. 'm cleanin’ up after a doctor’s surgery in Strawberry and it’s tough havin’ to take the boy with me. It’s nasty work, but it’s the start in the right direction. If other people can forgive the past n’ move on, why not us? ❞
The hug is affection she easily welcomes, taking in the warmth of her old friend. It’s hard to think about how it was YEARS ago that they had last seen each other. However, it’s at the mention of John that Abigail tenses, pulling away slightly to look at Anne. ❝ I, uh...left ‘im a while back. Took Jack and started stayin’ with the woman who raised me a few towns over. You hear about that mess up at Pronghorn Ranch? That was John, tryin’ to be the HERO outta one of Jack’s books. He wasn’t changin’ and I had to do somethin’ for the boy’s sake...But, h-he sent me a letter recently sayin’ he bought that land and was makin’ a home for us and that he missed me and the boy and...I...I think it’s TIME that we go back to ‘im. ❞
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