Chapter Text
Arizona Territory, 1890
The sheriff was asleep, his well-worn brown Stetson pulled down over his eyes, when Cosette approached the campfire, fiddling absentmindedly with her six shooter.
“I hope that’s not loaded,” Valjean murmured, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb the other man’s sleep.
Cosette did not respond to this, but sat down opposite him, adjusting her prairie skirt slightly so that she could cross her legs.
“Papa, I have something I need to tell you.”
Her unusually serious tone made his stomach clench with anxiety. To give himself something to focus on, he began pulling off his boots, a task that could take some time since they’d lost their boot jack a few weeks back. For a moment the night was silent save the crackling of the fire, but eventually Valjean cleared his throat and said, “Go ahead, then.”
Cosette was staring into the fire, seemingly unable to look him in the eye. “I want to go back to Dodge City,” she said softly.
Valjean could not stifle a small gasp. She looked up then, meeting his gaze from across the fire, and he knew that she was dead serious.