Chapter 29

                                    

                                          
Dutch's POV
I'm not a good man, and I never claimed to be. 
Dutch van der Linde prides himself in always doing right by his family, going the extra distance to ensure they are safe and cared for. If that includes inflicting pain, even killing, he'll do it with no hesitation. He and Hosea have come too far for it all to crumble now, even if their numbers have grown rapidly, he firmly believes they can continue on their upwards trajectory with the same level of success as they've had previously. 
There are few times when he's not thinking about how he can better them. Even when everyone sits, drinks, and sings together, his mind always wanders to what the next scheme will be. That was until that infectious laughter made him forget about it all on the first night she drank with them. 
He can't put his finger on it, but there's something about her that transports him to this other-worldly reality where none of their problems matter - where planning is useless and he's powerless unless he surrenders to just being present in the moment.  
She's been a part of this family for some time now, but he's not even close to figuring her out. The one unwavering constant he has is that she's undeniably beautiful. It's one of the first things he couldn't help but notice, second to her laugh that she carried in with her in the back of that saloon in Ulston. He was there to scope her out, decide her character following Trelawny's suspicions. He poignantly reminded himself of that fact as he was watching her, and he was doing just fine until her damn hand found its way to his shoulder. Her curious and challenging gaze boring into his, he found his mind lost despite knowing at that moment she was a threat to them all. 
Maybe it's his own instinct. Maybe he knew that really, she wasn't going to cause any harm. That's what he told himself when Bill found her sniffing around near the camp and he was reminded of the danger he could've put everyone in. Momentarily, that brought him back down to reality after he'd berated himself for letting a pretty girl cloud his judgement. 
She had to go and push that thought off its path, too. He couldn't find an ounce of fear in those eyes, not when he threatened her, not even when his cigar was burning through her flesh. He thought she was just hiding it well, knowing how to play these games but when she verbally said it aloud, he was, for once, at a loss for what he could do next. 
All he knew was that she needed to be broken, and he needed to be the one who did it. Arthur said it years ago when he saw a cute puppy and was overcome with the desire to squeeze it. Dutch thought it was a stupid thing to say and he didn't understand what he meant, but he gets it now. When he looks at Ada, he wants to squeeze everything he can out of her; break her into a million pieces so he can put her back together and do it all over again. 
He detests anyone that's feeble enough to take a job in the government, but she is the exception. He realised that it was not something he could blame her for. She was in a bad situation, just a kid, and she did what she thought was right. Dutch prides himself in always seeing past people's bad traits and focusing on why they're that way in the first place. 
If he'd have found her at fifteen when she lost her mother, he reckons he'd have made something great of her. That does imply that she isn't already a fearsome thing in her own right, but she is. Most kids who go through that trauma lose their zest eventually, but not Ada. She still looks at that sky like she's seeing it for the first time every night. 
Even when she was held hostage by a gang of outlaws, not a drop of worry painted that face and she found comfort and solace in that one tangible thing she can always look to. That's the only way to continue on with life; anchor yourself to something that's never going to go away, something you can always count on.