#rdrsafehaven

A shot went off that grazed her shoulder, both Kieran and Branwen crying out. He couldn’t lose this horse, not after everything they went through. Another shot and this time Kieran felt blinding pain through his leg. He cried out, felt the blood seeping down through the fabric of his shirt but he grabbed the reins tighter. No matter how much blood he’d lose, he had to get away from Dutch’s boys before they could catch up to them. 

He just passed Fort Wallace when he heard the train whistling, announcing it’s arrival at the nearby station. Luckily, Kieran knew the area since he had camped up here with his former gang before so he pushed Branwen forward towards Baccus station, up the mountains. This was his chance, if he could only get the train between himself and his pursuers he might live to see another day. 

They were galloping up towards the station, the train rushing towards them. Kieran pushed Branwen to keep running forward. He heard how they passed the train tracks, the train dangerously close. He heard Bill curse loudly behind him as the train rushed over the tracks right after Kieran had passed them. He still made Branwen run, still as fast just to get some more distance between them. The train came to a halt, stopping for the few passengers that would leave at the station and Kieran prayed to whoever would hear it that the gang wouldn’t try to get around the train. 

As he passed the Donner Falls, the rushing of the water drowning out any other sound he dared to slow down Branwen, sitting down heavily in the saddle and leaning back. He looked behind himself, scanning the area for any possible threat … but there was none. He sighed gently, slumping down in the saddle and gently scratching Branwen’s neck. “We did it, girl …” he said and gently nudged her forward. Even though he had lost them, he knew that he couldn’t just stay here. He needed a proper camp, some place to rest up, to take care of his wounds.

Branwen was breathing hard, her walk now painstakingly slow but he didn’t have the energy to make her move faster. His vision got blurry, his mind started spinning. He looked over at his leg again, the blood dripping out of the wound. He knew that he should cover it up, but … His vision went black and all he heard was a “You alright there, mister?!” before he lost consciousness. 

--

Kieran woke up to the smell of something cooking on a campfire. It made his stomach growl loudly before he could even open his eyes properly and he heard a low rumble of a man chuckling close to him. 

“Least yer still hungry.” He heard a stranger’s voice as he slowly sat up, blinking as he took in his surroundings. He was surrounded by trees, the early morning sun just rising above the horizon in the distance. A small campfire was lit next to the lean-to tent he was now sitting in, a man crouching next to it as he stirred around in the pot. 

The stranger was impressively large, broad shoulders, some scruff on his face, an old leather hat on top of his head. He looked rough, like a man that was used to living outside but when he looked over at Kieran there was a smile on his face and his eyes seemed kind and friendly. “Name’s Arthur. Found yer bleeding out on your horse, fixed yer up, didn’t want you dying on me. Breakfast’s almost ready.”

Kieran stared at him for a moment, not used to kindness like this. “Where’s my horse?” he blurted out, not interested in making conversation now. “Is she alright?” 

The other man chuckled softly at that and motioned towards a closeby tree, where three horses were standing. An impressively tall, black dappled thoroughbred standing next to an arabian with a brindled coat, unlike anything Kieran had ever seen. And right next to them was his horse. “Branwen!” He called out, got up and ran towards her. Halfway there his vision got dark again and he almost stumbled into her. 

“Woha there”, suddenly the stranger was standing close to him as well, steading him with a hand on his arm, his grip firm but gentle. “You lost a lotta blood, make sure to rest some b’fore you start runnin’ like that.”

Kieran closed his eyes until the world stopped spinning, blushing slightly as he realized how close the handsome stranger actually was to him. He excused himself as he got out of his grip and focused back on Branwen. “She got shot, I-” as he stroked down her neck towards her shoulder he realized that her wound had been tended to. Surprised, he looked up at Arthur who just shrugged gently. 

“I know a thing or two ‘bout horses. Took care of her wound .. but she’ll be alright.”

Kieran stared at him for a moment, then looked at Branwen before he looked back to the pot of stew on the fire. “Why… why would you do all this … for a stranger? What’s in it for you?” He had never met anybody who would just do something out of goodwill for a person they didn’t actually know. 

Arthur shook his head, an amused smile on his lips. “Ain’t nothin’ in for me, ‘s far ‘s I know. But helpin’ folk.. ‘s the righ thing to do ‘s all. Now, let’s get some good into ya.”

So they sat down around the campire together. Arthur served them both some stew, made with rabbit and some wild carrots. Kieran had to hold himself back not to gobble it all down within seconds after being starved out by the van der Linde gang. Arthur seemed to notice how hungry he was because he immediately refilled Kieran’s bowl after he had finished the first one.  

“So, why’d you get shot?” Arthur asked eventually as Kieran was halfway done with his second server. “Pissed off the wrong fellar?” Kieran thought about it for a moment. He knew that mentioning a gang could seem a bit too threatening. He didn’t want to risk Arthur sending him away again if he learned that he had been hunted down by some outlaws … that he used to be a part of. But he also felt bad keeping it from him. What if they actually found him here, O’Driscolls or Dutch’s boys? 

“... It’s a long story. But something like that, yeah. I was … they had tied me up for a while, got away though. Don’t think they followed me, though. I ain’t important enough for that.”

“Shit. Ya wanna talk to the law?”

Kieran looked up at him, shaking his head. “No … no, better not. I ain’t … well …”, he wasn’t even sure if the local law would know his name, he never played a big role in any gang that he was running with. But it was still not a good idea to get the law involved. What would Arthur think of that, though? 

“‘s alright. I ain’t exactly friendly with the law either”, Arthur assured him and set his bowl aside. “Feel free to stick around, I don’t mind a little company.”

Kieran watched him for a moment, wondering if Arthur actually meant what he said or if he was just saying it to be polite. To him, Arthur didn’t seem like the kind of man who just said something to be polite, though. And so he smiled and gave him a little nod. “I’d love to.”

--

And so they spent the next weeks together. Arthur told him about the Arabian he had caught. “Stripey”, as he called the young stallion just for the time being. Apparently there were two brothers down by Rhodes who’d give a good price for a horse like that, even without papers. So Arthur usually caught wild horses, the pretty ones that looked fast and strong. He was good with horses as he had worked on a ranch for a good part of his life and therefore had an easy time taming them. 

Arthur had said that he didn’t like the word “breaking” because it wasn’t what he did. He explained to Kieran that horses wanted to trust and follow anyway, that it was in their nature. That people didn’t have to break their will in order for them to do what they wanted. And Kieran couldn’t agree more. He told Arthur about Branwen and that he never trusted anybody more than his horse. He told him about how he had found her as a young mare, kind and sweet but about to be put down for a simple injury on her leg as she wasn’t able to “make money” like this. Back then Kieran had pleaded with the owner to please let her go, that he would take her for free even if she couldn’t walk properly so the farmer didn’t have to waste a bullet on her. But the man had just laughed at him and sent him away. So Kieran had done what every reasonable horse lover would do - he had stolen Branwen away the next night and vanished with her. 

When Kieran was done with his story Arthur had smiled at him in sympathy. It was something they could bond over - their passion and love for horses. And even if they looked fairly different, they had a lot of things in common. Both of them were never able to settle down anywhere. Chased away, running from the law, not belonging to anybody. But it made them belong together and so Kieran decided to run with him and help him train the horses. 

Arthur was one of the kindest men Kieran had ever met - sure, he didn’t talk much and got a little loud when he drank (which he always did after they sold a horse) but he never insulted him, never made fun of him for being a little jumpy at times. He even took his time to teach Kieran how to read and write after Kieran had admired him for his pretty handwriting one day and admitted that he couldn’t read any of it. 

Kieran caught himself staring at Arthur now and then as well. When he was concentrating on a task, cleaning his hunting rifle or speaking softly to one of the horses. Arthur was a beautiful man with the most amazing voice that Kieran has ever heard and blue eyes with the prettiest speckles of green when the sun hit them just right. Kieran had known that he fancied men but the longer he spent his time with Arthur the more he realized that falling in love with one was even a possibility. He didn’t just admire him for his body, didn’t just desire him … he just enjoyed his company and being with him in the simplest way. He didn’t dare confess anything to him, though. He knew what people did with men like him. And while Arthur was kind and caring, Kieran didn’t know what he thought about “queers”. So Kieran kept quiet and just stuck to his way of admiring him from a distance.  

--

After they had sold Stripey they had made their way up north again because Arthur had heard that there was another Arabian up by Lake Isabella. A white one this time and it really sparked both of their interests. Kieran knew that it meant coming back to Valentine because it was the logical stop before the hike up north but Arthur promised him that he was a good shot and that he’d keep him safe (which made Kieran blush) so they did it. 

Luckily they didn’t meet any of the van der Linde gang on their way through town or up the mountain. It was quite the hike and Kieran wondered if it was really worth the trip but when Arthur told him to join him up in his tent at night to keep each other warm with their body heat he stopped wondering about it and just agreed that yes, it was a fantastic idea to get up into the snow together. 

When they finally found said horse Kieran was in awe. She was a beauty, her fur so white that they both almost hadn’t noticed her in the snow. Arthur called her Snowdrop. She was a piece of work though, wild at heart and not very trusty. Arthur even wondered if she had ever been mistreated by a person before because she was so skittish in the beginning but she didn’t bare any scars that indicated it. 

They chose a different path down the mountain this time as Arthur had some “business” to attend in Strawberry. At first, Kieran was happy about it. He had been around the area before and had always found it rather pretty. But when they had made camp at the foot of Mount Shann everything changed. 

“Oh, ain’t that good ol’ Kieran Duffy!” he heard coming from a line of trees. The sun already vanished so it was hard to see, especially after tending to the fire but Kieran recognized the voice immediately. It was the voice of Carter Jenkins, one of those who had always loved to bully him during his time at the O’Driscolls.  

“Carter!”, Kieran yelled as he jumped up. “J-just leave us be! No need to shoot!”, he said as he saw the weapons in his and his companion’s hands. He wasn’t alone, in fact he was with 3 other people, all of whom Kieran recognized from his time with his former gang. Oh, this wasn’t good. 

“Hmm, you know if you give us all your money and the horses … I might consider it. Though I’m sure Colm would love to see you himself. You know that he prefers to kill the traitors himself.”

Kieran’s eyes widened but before anybody could say anything else, Arthur had pulled out his gun and shot Carter right into his face. All eyes where on him for a second before the other two raised their guns at Arthur and shot. Kieran yelled out his name and tried to get between him and the others but he was too slow to get between them in time.

Arthur went down but so did the other three men. Kieran stared at them in surprise for a split second. Arthur had always told him that he was a good shot and Kieran had believed him. But three people, right through the heart in the matter of only a few seconds? 

The thud of Arthur’s body hitting the ground pulled Kieran out of his thoughts and he crouched down next to Arthur to inspect his wounds. two of them were just minor graze wounds but one had shot right through his shoulder, blood seeping out of the wound and Arthur groaning loudly. 

“Oh shit, oh shit .. Arthur! Stay with me!” Kieran said to him with his voice full of panic and distress. He didn’t know what to do so he just took off his shirt and pressed it down on the wound to stop the bleeding. 

“Ain’t .. goin’ nowhere …”, Arthur moaned softly. “Just … gotta shut the wound …”, he said, slowly opening his eyes and looking up at Kieran. “Can you do that? Just .. some gunpowder and fire .. should do it …” Arthur’s eyes squeezed shut again, most likely from the pain.

“Gunpowder .. yes I ..”, frantically he looked around until he saw Arthur’s revolver in the dirt. He let go of his blood soaked shirt, got to the gun and pulled out one of the bullets. He had seen this way of shutting a wound once before. It wasn’t pretty and he knew that it hurt - but it was quicker than shutting it with a needle and threat. And the things he needed were far more available right now. 

After he had ripped open the shirt around the wound he pried open the bullet with his teeth, poured the gunpowder into the wound and lit it on fire with a small, burning stick from the campfire. He jumped when the gunpowder caught fire, his nose full of the smell of Arthur’s burning flesh he had to gag as Arthur yelled out in pain before going still. 

“Arthur?!” He waited for a response but there was nothing. For a few seconds he feared the worst but then he focused and realized that Arthur’s chest was still rising and falling. He was breathing. Alive. Shock had probably knocked him out, he had seen it before in people he had fought with side by side. He just had to keep him warm and protected during the night and then hopefully he would be awake the next morning. 

So he set to work. He carefully dragged Arthur into the tent and put all the blankets that they had on top of him before he dug out a grave for the dead O’Driscolls. He knew that he didn’t have to but it felt wrong to just leave them lying outside. It was the right thing to do. And while Kieran knew that he wasn’t the greatest of men, he wanted to be honorable.

When he was done with the quick burial he went back into the tent. It had been a rather cool day during this early summer and the floor wasn’t the driest so he worried about Arthur. For a moment he hesitated but then he shut the tent as securely as he could and slipped under the blanket with Arthur. He hoped that Arthur would understand it the next morning - that he only did this to keep his body temperature up, to make sure that he would recover from the shot. 

Kieran clung to Arthur that night, hugging him to make sure that he’d notice any shift or change in the other man. He prayed to whichever god would listen that Arthur would make it. He couldn’t lose him. Couldn’t lose the only human companion he ever trusted or cared about. Arthur had shown him kindness when nobody else would and had protected him from the monsters of his past, in more than just one sense. It wasn’t fair that he was the one lying in a tent with a shot wound. It should’ve been Kieran. But it seemed like yet another cruel joke of fate that it wasn’t him who had gotten hit. Just another good thing that might be taken from him. “You gotta make it…”, Kieran whispered as he got even closer to Arthur, listening to his weak breath and closing his eyes. “You will survive. You have to.”

Eventually he drifted off into a light sleep. Worry and adrenaline had worn him out so much that he was just too exhausted to stay awake, even if he knew that he should’ve. He still slept restless, dreams of the past and a dark future creeping up on him and keeping him worried all night, even in his sleep. He finally found rst in the early morning hours, awake but happy that Arthur was still breathing, still warm next to him. 

Another hour passed and Arthur slowly stirred awake. Kieran sat up right away, looking down at the handsome man. He was beautiful like this. And when Arthur looked up at him, a smile on his face, Kierasn couldn’t help himself. “You’re alive”, he whispered before he bent down and kissed Arthur’s lips. Gentle and careful, but also full of joy to see the other alive. Shocked, he realized what he had done and pulled away, now staring down at Arthur who looked at him in confusion. “I- I’m sorry … I didn’t .. I … uh …”