Two days.

Two damn days Molly’d been out in the wild.

The grit was sunk deep in her face, scowl carved there like it’d been chiseled permanent. Her hair—cut short like a man’s—was plastered to her brow with sweat and trail dust. She’d been huntin’… gang’s gotta eat, and her sweetheart’s been complainin’ ‘bout rabbit. Said she’s been cravin’ veal and somethin’ sweet.

Damn pregnancy cravings.

“I’m back!” Molly hollered as she swung off her mare, a fine-lookin’ beast worth more than she’d ever admit. A few of the gals ran up, gigglin’ and crowdin’ ‘round her like hens. Molly flashed ‘em a grin, tugged her hat down, and tipped it to ‘em — which only got ‘em gigglin’ louder.

A gang of outlaw women. Sure… they got some men here too. Darla’s husband the treasurer, the ‘doctor’, an older dickhole with an attitude who’s apparently no good for them but who’s sticking around because deep down he knows he belongs… and then Molly of course. She is a woman… through and through. But she poses as a man… dresses like one… keeps her hair cut like one… her wife calls her handsome… Molly adores the compliment…

But it’s a gang of lady outlaws—and Molly would have it no other way.

With a grunt, she hauled the buck she’d tracked near two days off the horse’s croup and slung it up over her shoulder. Damn thing was heavy as sin, but when the gals started cooing over her strength, well… she weren’t about to put it down early. She marched it over to the cook’s table and dropped it with a thud. That’s when the girls depart, not wanting the cook to demand them to help out.

The cook cocks a graying brow, looking down at the deer, then back at the handsome lass.

“…deer.” Is all the cook grumbles.

Molly gave a sharp nod. The cook nodded back, frownin’ like she always did — which Molly reckoned was her way of sayin’ “good work.” Then the old gal shooed her off, mutterin’ in some tongue Molly didn’t know. Molly scowls back, but stalks off.

Time to go find the woman who’d sent her on this gods-forsaken hunt. Her hand itched toward her satchel, wantin’ to pull out that jar of chocolates she’d tracked down just for her.

That damned… amazing woman… Molly feels the corner of her lips twitching, yearning to smile when she thinks of her.

Her wife’s ex? Bastard, the lot of him. He’s the reason she’s carryin’ at all. He’s also dead now… so that’s good. The gang took her in… took care of her… and when it was revealed that her wife was with child? Well… Molly had her eye on the skittish lass when she first came to the camp… so she stepped up. She’ll be the father of that baby. Molly just announced it… honestly her wife didn’t have much of a choice. Yeah her wife was startled… and maybe she still is… but Molly cares for her. And she’ll take care of that baby.

“Bunny?” she called, voice gravelly as she strode up to their tent. Bunny was a good name for her — jumpy, wide-eyed little thing she was. Molly couldn’t help but grin now as she pushed the flaps aside. “Bunny girl?”