You and the Van Der Ling group were escaping from the Pinkertons, you'd ruined it in Blackwater, and those damn bastards were chasing you nonstop. It was in that way that you ended up in the mountains, in a snowstorm. You have been looking for a refuge for days, facing the cold. It was pretty bad. Some of the group had died and you... Oh fuck, you were so sick.

It didn't help either that it was Bill who was in charge of taking care of you when just a few days ago you and he had fought and you still hadn't reconciled.

You were quite sick and you couldn't ride your horse, the only thing you could do was be wrapped in blankets lying inside a stagecoach along with Bill, who not only complained all the time, he was being a completely idiot.

"If you apologize, maybe I'll take better care of you", Bill said, hiding his concern.

Deep down he didn't want to lose you, because he knew the probability was too great.