"Anytime, Cowgirl." : Arthur Morgan X OC

Chapter 27

As she washed one of Jack's shirts, which had jam on it, she thought of her mother. Her apple pies. The way she would hum as she brushed her hair. Her witty remarks towards Jane's aunt. Her red blood all over Jane's white dress.

She ripped her hand away from the washboard. Without noticing, she had begun to scrub the shirt harder and harder, scraping her hand in the process.

Blood, just like her mother's, began to pool in her palm.

The stinging brought her back to her senses though. She sighed, wiping her forehead with her good hand, and cradled the other.

Then the familiar feel of rain came about.

"Good God," she mumbled, grabbing the drying clothes off the line single-handedly. She held her injured hand against her body as she piled them on her shoulder.

The rain fell harder and harder as she rushed in the back door, slamming it behind her.

What she saw inside was not was she was expecting to see.

Everyone was crowded around near the front of the room. Jane grabbed a handkerchief off a stool and made her way over there, wrapping her hand in it.

There stood Micah. She wasn't sure whether to feel elated or alarmed.

"Where in the world did you go?" Sadie said, her voice louder than the others.

"Like I said, we got on a boat and then there was a nasty little storm. We ended up stranded on a little island called Guarma."

Jane pushed her way to the center. "Where are the rest of you?"

He snickered when he saw her. "Oh, don't worry. Arthur's just dandy. Besides the cough, you know."

Ms. Grimshaw placed a hand on Jane's shoulder. "And the others?"

"They're all fine too. We left separately, as to not draw any unwanted attention. Should be here soon."

Jane felt as if she could breath again. Arthur was alive, and he was coming.

Pearson offered Micah some stew, and the crowd began to dwindle. But an anxious- and excited- cloud hovered over them.

Jane found herself sitting outside, underneath the shabby porch. It didn't provide much cover. Soon her hair and clothes were damp.

Arthur, where are you?

She could see him riding- or walking- miles away, tired and worn, then captured by lawmen. He could never get back to her.

Jane prayed to God that that wasn't the case.

Due to the thin walls, the inside chatter was audible.

"I already told you woman," Micah said, his words muddled by the stew he was eating. "They'll all be back soon enough. Dutch thought it was better than coming all at once."

Jane could hear Sadie's patience lowering by the minute. "At least wait til you're done chewing to talk. Jesus. Did you see any Pinkertons?"

"A few. They was sniffing around a bit outside of Shady Belle. Didn't see me, though."

The darkening swamp didn't manage to cool down as the night came around. The sticky air surrounded her like her buzzing anticipation, lingering just above the skin.

"Come on, Arthur," she mumbled, rubbing her injured hand. The universe must really wanted to push her buttons by spitting Micah back from the sea but withholding Arthur. She didn't mean to fall in to a hole of self-pity, but it happened anyways.