Chapter 83: Dancing with Mary Beth
There’s hardly a problem a drink can’t fix.
And if one isn’t enough—have another.
Mac, who’d been baring his teeth and threatening to punch Dutch during their earlier spat, now acted as if nothing had happened, joining the others around the campfire as they sang bawdy songs.
The only one still looking confused was Sean MacGuire.
He had no idea what had just gone down.
How had Davey ended up clashing with Dutch?
As they drank together, Karen filled him in on everything that had happened since the Blackwater robbery.
Only then did Sean realize just how much Davey had changed.
He was curious, of course—but it was clear that Karen was the real focus of his night.
Javier Escuella played the guitar beautifully, his rhythm blending perfectly with the coarse laughter and vulgar lyrics. It didn’t take much to satisfy a bunch of drunken outlaws.
Mac soon got carried away, boasting about his escapades with women in Valentine.
Davey grabbed a bottle of beer and leaned back, quietly watching the chaos unfold across camp.
“Davey, can I talk to you?”
To his surprise, the first person to approach him was Abigail.
“Of course.”
Davey followed her to the cliff’s edge beside camp, where little Jack stood gazing up at the moon.
“Davey, you know Jack’s growing up. He shouldn’t keep running from place to place with the gang.”
“I want him to have a better future—not end up an outlaw like his father.”
“So… you’ll help me, won’t you, Davey?”
Abigail had told John the same thing many times, but he never truly listened. He avoided the issue, just as Arthur and the others often teased him for. John still wasn’t ready to be a father.
But Abigail was different. To her, Jack was everything.
Davey nodded. “You’re right, Abigail. Jack’s turning five soon. In the civilized cities of the US, kids his age are already in preschool.”
“Jack’s a bright boy. He shouldn’t be living on the run. He should be in a classroom, learning, playing with children his own age.”
Abigail let out a breath of relief. She’d known Davey wouldn’t refuse, but hearing him say it still brought comfort.
“Thank you, Davey. John keeps saying it’s not the right time. I just don’t know when he thinks that time will come.”
“I want to leave with you, but… a child without his father isn’t part of a whole family.”
“So please, give me a little more time. I’ll convince John to come with us—to follow you.”
“If… if he’s still the same by Christmas, then I’ll take Jack and come find you.”
Abigail hesitated before speaking. Deep down, she still wanted to leave with her husband.
Despite John’s failings as a father, her love for him was real.
“Alright. I believe John will make the right choice, Abigail. We have to trust him.”
Davey had no intention of stealing John’s family away, even if this body had once shared something intimate with Abigail.
Besides, if he was being honest, she wasn’t really his type.
With Jack’s future more or less settled, Abigail seemed far more at ease.
Davey wandered aimlessly through the camp, looking for something to do.
Kieran Duffy was off to the side, quietly wiping down tables while everyone else drank themselves stupid.
Even the ever-demanding Susan Grimshaw had no criticism for him.
Still, being a former O’Driscoll, it was clear he had trouble fitting in with the Van der Linde gang.
Bill liked to pick on him whenever he got bored, and only Arthur’s intervention had kept things from going too far.
Across the fire, Dutch was dancing with Molly, while Mary Beth stood nearby watching—perhaps a little envious.
Just then, her eyes met Davey’s as he scanned the camp.
Seeing the longing in her gaze, Davey had no reason to refuse the kind, gentle girl.
Setting down his bottle, he walked over and extended a hand with a gentleman’s smile.
“The lovely Miss Gaskill, would you grant me this dance?”
Mary Beth’s face lit up. “Of course, Mr. Callander.”
Their fingers intertwined as Davey’s arm slid around her waist and her hand rested lightly on his shoulder.
It was a popular social dance of the time, one that had come from the French courts of Europe.
The closeness carried a subtle intimacy that made Mary Beth blush and lower her eyes, too shy to meet Davey’s gaze.
Watching from the sidelines, Dutch’s expression darkened.
After all, Mary Beth had always been one of his targets.
Comments (0)
Please login or sign up to post a comment.