In a world where outlaws are no longer wanted, the past seems to be another foe. Seven years and one disappearance can hold many wounds. Even as you learn that those wounds are about to be torn right back open.
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Arthur didn't want to return back to camp just yet. His hands shook with adrenaline, his shoulders hunch over and his head low as he rides out of Valentine. Jamie will be fine; the kid isn't his problem. He's a grown man now and doesn't need a grumpy old outlaw chasing after him to solve his own issues.
Why did she write if all she would do is play with his heart again?
Three days have passed since Arthur saw Camille. The first day he was busy rescuing Sean – though leaving him there did cross his mind – and the night was full of beer, whiskey and drunken nonsense. The second day he spent mostly asleep, as did most of camp. He remembers looking down at the knapsack Camille had threw at his feet, he was still unsure what to do with it. How would he explain that he found Camille? He could always just give it to Dutch and say he got a lucky tip off about a stagecoach. But lest it was still beside his cot in his tent, the only true evidence that Camille wasn't just a drunk illusion.
Arthur spent the final day doing odd jobs for Dutch or going out hunting for Pearson. Seeming to find anything and everything to keep himself busy and away from that knapsack.
Now Mary had snuck her way back into his mind. Writing to him and asking to see him again. It's almost too easy to avoid the letter but something in Arthur made him ride to the house in Valentine to see her. Too much of the past had crept up on him in the last few days – maybe Mary would be the release he needed. She was still as beautiful as the day he first met her. His heart raced and his words stumbled. But then she asked for his help. Help that only he could do because he was the only one that she knew would be foolish enough to be toyed with again.
Just like she always did.
Ace gave a huff beneath Arthur, gaining the man's attention long enough to notice they were no where near camp and they have ridden pretty far from Valentine while Arthur has been lost in his own head. He has completely bypassed camp and continued along the track.
"Alright boy," Arthur pats Ace's neck lovingly then tugs the reigns to turn Ace around. Until he heard a faint chime.
Follow the chimes.
That's what Camille had instructed before she left in a rush. A tree with whiskey bottles, that's where she wants to see him again. But after already being disappointed by Mary's call for help, Arthur doubted in himself if he should continue along the path to Camille. Besides its been three days, there surely isn't anyway she has stayed. Right?
Arthur clicks his tongue and rides towards the direction of the chimes.
His palms grow sweaty, his heart races and leaps as he draws nearer the location. When the tree comes into view and the chimes hit at a higher pitch he swallows the sudden nerves and approaches. He see's her red Roan Tennessee Walker grazing a few feet away to the left of the tree, but as he gets closer he becomes more and more confused. Where was she?
