may i stand unshaken [Arthur Morgan × OC]

Chapter 3

– Thank god you don't look like a maniac, – she said and smiled – You're very pretty.

I looked away in embarrassment, and miss Grimshaw with a grunt disappeared into another tent, from which loud male snoring could be heard. I looked around. The camp of these strangers is located on a small, snow-covered clearing among the trees, not far from the ill-fated lake. The dog ran around my legs, breathing fast. There were three tents around, a bonfire, and above it a vat, apparently with some kind of ragout, opposite a long log serving as a place for breakfast, lunch and dinner. A black horse was standing among the trees, and Ringo was standing nearby, shifting from one foot to the other.

It was quiet all around, and I, wrapping my coat more tightly, sat down on a log, stretching my legs closer to the warming fire. The frost touched my cheeks pleasantly, the sun shone directly into my eyes. Hesitating doubtfully, took a plate and even hot ragout. From the very sight of any food, drool accumulated in my mouth, and my stomach painfully rumbled.

While I was enjoying this delicious ragout, thoughtfully staring into the fire, remotely listening to the snoring from the tent, men's voices were heard behind me, accompanied by the crunch of snow underfoot.

– Is that my coat?

With a spoon in my mouth, I turned my head. Arthur was standing with a cigarette in his mouth, his eyes narrowed, and a deer carcass was hanging on one of his shoulders. The young man was big, broad-shouldered and covered the sun with himself. His gaze was frightening. As if it was his vocation to intimidate.

– Your coat? – I asked, nervously looking at myself. – I didn't... I didn't know...

– Relax, – he suddenly laughed hoarsely and slapped me on the shoulder, which made me almost drop the plate with the remains of the ragout, choking in surprise. – I won't get poorer.

– Be careful, Arthur, – next to him was a smiling blond man, whose name I still did not know. – Fragile ladies are treated quite differently, or have you forgotten?

Fragile lady? I wanted to laugh hysterically.

Arthur rolled his eyes, still grinning, and stepped aside, dropping the carcass of the animal.

– I didn't introduce myself, did I? – the stranger said, looking down at me. – My name is Hosea Matthews. And you're Joanna Starr, I remember.

– To be honest, I thought you were a foreigner, – I smiled stupidly. – You behave somehow... differently.

– I don't even know if it's lucky or unfortunately, – the man replied, glancing at the sky.

Hearing the slurping sounds, I shifted my gaze to Arthur. He was sitting opposite a dead deer and wielding a long hunting knife over it. As if sensing my gaze, he looked up and winked again. He saw how I pursed my lips in confusion, how my cheeks involuntarily lit up, and he laughed soundlessly, returning to business. As if he liked to embarrass me.

– Have you been hunting deer? – trying to forget what happened, I asked when Hosea sat down on a log next to me, and he nodded in agreement. – I don't understand... Then why did you buy that deer from me?

– I saw you there, in front of the butcher's shop, lost when he unfairly tried to lower the price, – he replied after a while of silence. – I realized that you are different from others. You behave differently...

– It's just that Hosea is trying to lead you to an important conversation, – another man's voice was heard, deep and rolling, as if all the animals were supposed to run away deep into the forest now. – And I'll help him.

I noticed mister Matthews' eyes, first a quick doubt flashed through them, and then a barely visible gratitude, addressed it seems to Dutch. The man, stretching his stiff back, sat down on a stump on the other side of the fire. He was dressed in a black shirt and some kind of garish-colored vest, and a red-and-white checkered bandana hung around his neck. Miss Grimshaw appeared behind him.