Fuck it’s cold. River pressed both her hands to her mouth a blew hot air into them. She wasn’t prepared for the cold yet. She’d barely scraped by enough to get herself a half decent coat and she still didn’t have enough.
The hard wood was cold against the bottoms of her feet. Her toes pink from the cold. Her thin jacket barely broke the cold wind, and her exposed mid drift riddled with goosebumps. It was all she could do to wrap her arms arms around herself, and bustle to the little half stable housing her mule.
“I got him cleaned as best I could, but the matting in his hair and—”
“Yea I know, I don’t care about that. How are his feet?”
“Good, good, in surprisingly good shape, considering the rest of him.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” she snapped, unable to fight her chattering teeth. The wind picked up and the sun was going down quickly. She needed to make a decision. Get on the road and get as far as they could through the bitter night, or use the last of her money to give the mule a dry place to sleep, with water and food.
She cast a glance at the beast tiredly watching her from his stable. She was so cold, her hands were shaking as she pet his soft muzzle.
The grizzled stable master looked her up and down, then sighed, his eyes softening. He had been kind to her, and earlier that day had made small talk about available work in the area. “He’ll be fine for the night. Come on, you can stay with us.”
“Us?” She eyed him uneasily, taking an unconscious step toward her mule.
“Me and me uh, house mate,” he said as he threw a blanket that stank of horse over her shoulders. A loud crash of thunder boomed in the distance, from the mountains. “We live up the hill there.” He pointed up the road, to a house that blended in with the surrounding darkness, save for the single light illuminating the porch. “Go wait in the wagon there,” he disappeared into the post office for a moment before coming back out.
The ride was quiet, though wet as a deluge poured down on them on the short trip. The house was filled with music and the smell of fresh baked bread and a hearty, cheesy stew.
“Jon?” A deep, gritty voice called from the kitchen.
“Beau, we have company.”
Clad in an apron full of pockets, a man, if she could call him that, came around the corner. Riv felt her eyes grow wide as she took in the sheer height of ‘Beau’. The man’s piercing blue eyes. His very familiar piercing blue eyes.
“Beauford?” Her voice came out higher pitched than she would have liked, her teeth chattering and rattling against her skull as she clutched the blanket tighter.
“Riv?” Both his eyebrows disappeared into his dark hair, his mouth hanging open for just a moment before he seemed to finally catch up, and he put the tray of bread down on the nearest table and engulfed her in a long, warm, tight hug.
“You two know each other?” Jon asked, confused.
“Remember the gang I used to run with?” Beau asked as he began bustling over her. She didn’t mind. She was so tired she let them talk around her. Let him look at her eyes, her fingers, her hair. “She’s Eddy’s widow.”
“Oh.” Pause. “Oh. Well, aren’t you a lucky lady.”
“Some say that,” she snorted. “Beau I could really use a bath,” she sighed, “and maybe some work.”
“Well, we’ll see.” he said, nodding to his ‘housemate’ before leading her to the washroom.
/////
The armchair she occupied was comfortable. The tea mug in her hands, warm. The blanket over her shoulders, soft. The fire in front of her toasty. She almost felt bad for leaving the mule in the stalls down at the post office, but it was better than either of them trying to muck it out in the rain.
Clean, full, and warm, three things she hadn’t been in quite a few weeks, were not completely lost on her. “Thank you, Beau, Jon. I appreciate your kindness.” She settled herself deeper into the plush of the blanket.
“Any time.” Beau said, sitting next to Jon. “You said you were looking for work?”
“Aye, I got robbed a few months back. I’ve been making ends meet since then, but,” she opened the blanket, gesturing with her hands, “I am not prepared for this weather. My mule is a mess and needs some care too. I was hoping we could hop on the train and ride down to Rhodes or San Denis, but I don’t have enough fair to cover, which means I’ll have even less to get him treated.”
“Or new clothes for you.”
Heat rose from her neck as she flushed. “right, yea.”
Beau laughed, waving her off. “Riv, you’ve always been that way.” he leaned into Jon, smirking. “Always cared about the camp dog or the horses, or the kids before herself. Foolish sometimes.”
Riv shrugged, “foolish, maybe. But here I am.”
“Tell you what,” Jon said. “I might be able to get you on a train, with your mule, and get you paid. You got guns?”
“Probably the only thing of real worth I do have.” She settled back into the chair.
The next day, she found herself being paired up with a security team and felt wholly out of place against their uniforms. Beau and Jon were large men, and the only thing they had that could possibly fit her was a pair of warm overalls and a long sleeve shirt. She knew she looked silly; barefoot, an overly large shirt that she needed to roll the sleeves to her mid-arm, still not dressed for the weather, as everyone else wore a thick coat or warm hat at least.
Pushing her large sunglasses back to the bridge of her nose, Riv sniffed up the dripping wet snot and moved to the back of the train where she might be able to get her mule up. He had let Jon trim his hooves, and Riv had given him a good brush. She had no shears, and his shaggy coat was more comical than cute.
“Mommy look at the big fluffy donkey!” She heard a kid yell from the station.
“Alright, big boy.” She hoped this wouldn’t be hard, as she had never needed him to load into anything before, and he refused to be harnessed or lead. “I need you to get in there, and stay in there. I gotta work, and when we get to where we’re going you are getting a spa day, a new blanket…”
The animal fucking jumped into the trailer, slipped with a horrifying scream, then caught his balance and looked back at her, ears flat as he yelled at her, as if to say ‘happy now?’ Riv stared at him, “well, okay then.” she walked in, patting him on his hind end. “I’m going to give you a very special job though,” she whispered, putting her saddle down with a thud. “Watch over my things and bite anyone who tries to take them.” Her mule gave her a loud, awful bay, shoving his forehead into her chest for scratches under his jaw.
He didn’t even flinch when the train horn blew, signaling her time to get into position. As she left the trailer, she was halted by a white haired woman, with a scar across her face and a red eye patch. “You, you’re not part of my crew.”
“I’m hitching a ride to San Denis. Help with-”
“Last I checked, we didn’t ask for help in doing our jobs.”
“No,” Riv closed her eyes, trying hard but failing at hiding her irritation. “I need the help. Has nothing to do with you. Just, do your job, and I’ll do mine.” She walked past the lady, who, annoyingly followed her.
Riv had robbed a few trains in her time, before people had gotten smart and hired other gangs to protect cargo. She knew the weak spots where bandits could climb aboard. She found a spot just behind another trailer, and wedged herself between the crate chained there and the wall of the trailer. She was open, but she had a steady shot with her rifle.
“Nice gun.” The white haired woman sat on the crate next to her head. Riv lowered her sunglasses and stared up at the woman expectantly.
“It was my late husbands.” She replied. She had taken it apart, cleaned it, and put it back together at least three times the night before. “Mine doesn’t have good enough range.”
“And you can shoot it?” Clearly, she was being examined.
Riv sighed. “Look, I’m having it a bit rough okay? You don’t need to know my story, or me. Just that I’m a good shot and was offered some decent cash and a free ride to the city. If you want to fuck with me any more than that, get in line. I’m Riv.”
The train whistled, and its loud horn blared its warning departure time, and someone could be heard yelling from the front of the train. “Well, as long as you don’t cause too much trouble. Wren.”
Rolling her eyes, Riv waited until the footsteps had disappeared and resumed her position.
The train began to move. It was time.
Two days. Two days by train and only once did they need to actually defend anything when a few bandits thought it’d be a good idea to throw flaming bottles of moonshine from a bridge onto the decks of the train below. Riv was lucky enough to have been missed, but one of the bottles landed on Wren, coating her in broken glass, and flaming alcohol.
Blood curdling screams echoed through the misty night. The woman on fire moved erratically on the deck until Riv tackled her. Using her long sleeves, Riv smacked the flames out as a bullet whizzed past her ear.
Still over Wren, she put herself in position, scanning the fog for a flash of light. A pop and a flash. A revolver? Child’s play. Aiming just a little higher from where she saw the flash, Riv shot. And she kept shooting after every blaze of gunpowder that sparked.
When the hubbub died down, a few others came by. Some had a few burns, others some cuts and scrapes. She got up to let Wren up from under her and out of sight as her people took her away.
It wasn’t until after Riv had gotten paid and she was unloading her mule at the station that she was approached by a young Asian man with thick, angry brows. “Wren wants to see you.”
“Shes alive?” Surprised, Riv nodded her head. “Alright.” Her mule shoved his face over her shoulder, snorting his deep, whiny bray. The young man glanced at the mule, even after she ushered him forward with a wave of her hand.
He led her through the streets of San Denis. And while Riv was a little irritated that she had to walk through the streets without visiting the stables first, at least she had a guide. She tossed a rope around her mules neck, and looped it over her shoulder. And she pulled out a notebook from the saddle and begun to sketch, take notes, and draw a makeshift map as she followed the young man to the doctors, where a burnt, but alive Wren laid in a bed.
Half her face suffered from third degree burns. Her arms, face, and chest were all wrapped in clean gauze. She smelled of burnt hair and skin. Riv, flooding with sympathy- that could have easily been her, and she didn’t have anyone she believed would have put out the fires- sat on the bed at the woman’s feet. Her lower body had been spared, probably because Riv tackled her.
Before she could say anything, Wren flicked her fingers, barely, but Riv was handed a thick wad of cash. Riv counted almost two hundred dollars.
“You stopped the flames,” A younger woman said, taking the young mans hand. “And you saved her life. We all pooled together for that.”
“Get yourself a decent coat, will ya?” The man gruffed, “but yea, we owe you.”
Eyeing the cash, and taking a brief note of the fifty bucks she’d gotten for the train ride, the side of Riv’s mouth quirked up. “I think we’re even.” She glanced down at Wren, “Glad I could help. Really. I hope she recovers.”
“We all do,” they followed her out where she noticed her mule was terrorizing passersby on the street. Not biting, but keeping his ears pinned and looking like he would. And then he kicked the trolly as it jingled by with a bellowing bray. People were starting to point fingers and whisper.
Hurriedly, Riv grabbed the rope around his neck and led him further onto the sidewalk. “Yeesh buddy, it ain’t gon hurt ya.” She patted him once on his back then had an idea. “Hey, take some of this paste.” She pulled out a small, squat jar filled with yarrow paste. “I made it to help with cuts, but it should be okay with burns. You can use it on her face. It won’t stop scarring though.”
“The doctor’s got it,” the young man said, but the woman took the jar in both hands.
“Yea and I’ve been making that since I was a kid, and,” she patted her chest and opened her arms and as charming of a smile as she could muster, “I’m alive. And I never needed no doctor.” she nodded to the jar, “a doc will use fancy medicines but will forget to wash their hands.”