It was a slow, sunny day at the camp. I sat on the outside of my tent, drinking in the sunshine on my skin like it was water.
The young Jack Marston had waddled up to me, his face lively. "Hi, Ms. Summer."
"Hi there, Jack!" I responded warmly. I usually didn't talk much at camp, but whenever this boy wanted to talk, he'd make me have a full blown conversation. He loved asking me so many questions, especially about my church — I take it he'd never been to a church before. "I wanted to say thank you for the flower — it's beautiful."
"Mama helped me put it in the bottle!" The boy gave a toothy smile.
"What are you up to today?" I closed my journal, diverting my full attention to him.
"Uncle Arthur might take me fishin' again later," Jack mused, "but right now, nothin'."
"Well, we could go sit by the water if you'd like?" My heart ached for this little boy, stuck in a gang half run by big-hearted people and the other half run by cold-hearted killers. Sometimes, both could be the same person. His mama, Abigail, was doing a great job all things considered — she made sure he got plenty of play time and stuck to where it was safe.
"Yeah!" Jack jumped up and scurried away, kicking up some grass in his wake. I smiled and threw on my satchel, getting up after him. I passed by Abigail, who lightly grabbed my arm.
"Thank you," she murmured with a soft smile. She was truly a beautiful lady; it seemed like the greens in her eyes were even brighter while she watched her son happily roam around the camp. It was no wonder even someone as distant as John Marston would fall for her.
"Anytime, truly." I grinned back at her, meaning that with my heart. I'd never had any kids of my own yet, mainly because I wanted to actually find the one to have them with. And maybe it was too high of standards, but nearing thirty, it just didn't seem like it was gonna happen. Part of me had always felt that I'd be a mom someday. But maybe it was better this way.
~~
"Ms. Summer, look!" Jack held up some rogue pencil marks and scribbles that were vaguely in the shape of a bird bending down to snatch a worm out of the grass. I had given him some paper and a pencil to doodle with. He had a natural knack for it, I could tell. His proportions were shockingly good for being a kid his age.
"Jack, that's wonderful! You're getting better by the day!" I smiled as I held up the paper, noticing tiny details like the swoops he lightly drew to make feathers.
"You really think so?" he snickered. I had been sketching some people in the camp into my journal. "Uncle Arthur might think so too. Didya know he draws real good?"
"Really?" I smirked, picturing the strong man sitting down to lightly brush a pencil to a page. "Well, between the two of us, you'll get plenty of practice, that's for sure."
Jack giggled and sat down in the coarse sand. The breeze carried brisk air off the water, rustling through his sandy hair. "I wanna show Pa this."
"I'm sure he'll love it." I thought briefly about the predicament of John Marston, that mysterious greasy-haired man who was Jack's dad. He seemed to care enough about the boy and his mother to stop in and check on them, but rarely was he seen with his son otherwise. In fact, I'd seen Arthur Morgan with him more than his dad, and he was gone on various camp quests all the time.
"You must be quite the artist, boy." Almost like my thoughts had summoned him, the large figure of Arthur had sauntered into my field of vision, heading towards Jack. He had gestured at the doodle as he spoke.
"Uncle Arthur!" Jack cheered, running up to him. My heart warmed as I saw the man gently lift Jack off the ground and into the air, setting him on his shoulder.
"Whatcha been talkin' about with Ms. Summer?" Arthur's voice had taken on a lighter, gentler tone. There was a twinge of something warm and comforting in my chest.
"Drawing. I'm gonna show it to Pa." Jack played with the pencil in his fingers. "And that someday I'll be as good as you!"
Arthur chuckled. "Now we'll see about that." He had set the boy back down on the sand, glancing at me. My cheeks felt warm as I lowered my eyes to the ground to avoid prolonging contact.
"Can we go fishin' now?" Jack gazed up at Arthur, his eyes round and pleading. "I've been practicin' with Pearson."
"Sure." Arthur put his hands on his hips. "Is she joinin' us?"
"Me? Oh, well..."
Jack ran up to me. "Pleeeease, Ms. Summer? It will be so fun!"
"Well, alright. Guess I could learn a thing or two myself." I brushed the dust off my dress as I stood.
I snatched one of the fishing poles that lay by the dock as Arthur prepared the small camp boat. We clambered in as he pushed the boat out into the water, arms flexing with the effort. I found myself looking and turned towards the water again. Dangit, Summer, don't go eyein' an outlaw like that.
Arthur rowed us out a ways from the coast then stopped, picking up his own pole. "You remember what to do, Jack?"
"Yeah." Jack's little fishing pole was grasped tightly by his hands. "You just pull back, and then...!" He swung the pole sloppily backwards and thrust it again, where it plopped two feet away into the water.
"Not bad," Arthur mused, "but ya might wanna put on the bait first."
"...Oh. Right." Jack reeled it in quickly.
"How 'bout you, Ms. Summer Grace?" Arthur had turned to me, a curious glint in his face. "You a fisher?"
"Can't say I am," I admitted, fiddling with my dress. "But everything's worth a shot, right?"
"Sure." He gestured to my pole. "Why don't you show us?"
I mainly agreed to this for Jack's sake -- to be honest, I was a pretty awful fisher. Both Mama and Dad weren't really big for it anyway, and I had never caught on easily. Besides, Dad knew it was probably better for me to pour energy into learning a gun rather than a fishing pole. I hesitated, then sat up, gripping the rod as baiting it. With a strong start, I thrust the rod forward, only for the line to fall a few feet away into the water. "Don't look too hard," I groaned, seeing the small smirk playing on Arthur's lips.
"Maybe Uncle Arthur could teach you," Jack giggled. He was just playing by moving his lure around in the water and watching it. "He's pretty good."
"Now I wouldn't say that, but Kieran did give me some pointers. Guess there's some good comin' from that man." My heart started to pick up as Arthur squeezed past Jack, stopping next to me. He was looking down at me, catching my eyes as he gestured to my arm. "May I?"
"Sure." My voice slightly wavered. As much as this man intimidated me, there was something oddly comforting about his presence - perhaps the thought of safety and protection, sure, but maybe it was those glimpses of gentleness I saw too. Regardless, the proximity between us was probably the closest it's been up to this point, and I prayed he wouldn't noticed how nervous I suddenly was feeling.
"Alright." Arthur moved to an angle behind me, sliding his arms alongside mine. His hands guided mine to a steadier grip on the road, his fingers brushing mine as he fixed them. My skin felt tingly at the touch. The smell of smoke and gunpowder, presumably from his last mission, tinged my nose. "You wanna hold it like this. Stronger grip in case there's a big one tuggin'... but not that tight."
"...Got it." I loosened my grip a tad, where my knuckles had gone white from the pressure.
"You're gonna wanna relax," he muttered next to my ear. I just then realized how tense I was, as if trying to form a barrier between his arms and back and mine. I took a small breath and loosened, my arms and back resting against his -- touching, but not pushing. It still was enough to make my head spin. "Okay. Then just get a good angle on it..."
As Arthur guided me through a better form, my mind raced yet felt calm at the same time. It was essentially a blur with his body lightly against mine as together we swung the rod back and then forward. The line whistled into the air, landing now several feet away in a smooth motion. As he took a step back, I released a breath I didn't realize I was holding.
"I think you already got it, Ms. Summer Grace."
"A few more practice tries wouldn't hurt. Think I could use the help." The words were out before I really thought about them. I hadn't really intended anything suggestive, but Arthur smirked in a way that felt a bit deeper than I thought.
"Anytime, Miss." His eyes caught mine again and I practically froze for a second, staring a bit longer than I would've otherwise. I started to open my mouth to reply--
"Uncle Arthur, look!"
Both of us jumped a bit, snapped out of the eye contact. Jack's line was trembling -- he must have already hooked it. Arthur was at his side quickly, peering at the line. "Remember to tire 'em out," he urged, helping push Jack's line from side to side as the fish fought. Water splashed around the struggle until it quieted, where Jack then reeled and reeled. Within a few moments a small, slender fish was hoisted into the air, dangling from the hook. Its skin glistened in the sun as Jack kept the pole upright, his eyes shining.
"I did it! I did it!"
"Yes, you did." The way Arthur kneeled next to Jack, grinning at him proudly, you could believe this was a man and his son catching the son's first fish together.
"That was great!" I stepped to the other side of Jack. "You're a natural!"
"My first fish!" Jack cried, shaking the line a bit. The chain pickerel struggled and swung in the air.
"Now remember what I told you about the little ones?" Arthur gestured to the catch.
"Let 'em go so they have more time to grow." Jack nodded solemnly. Arthur brought the pole down, carefully showing Jack how to unhook the fish. In a swift motion it was tossed into the air, landing with a splash into the water again. Its quick, slender body darted away into the depths.
"Very good." Arthur patted Jack's back gently, his large hand seeming to cover all of it. "Let's try for another one, okay? Then we can get you back to your mama."
Within a few moments, Arthur was back by my side. I shifted on my feet, holding the fishing pole in my hands again. I had tried another swing, getting a bit farther than my first attempt. "Care to show me how it's done again? I think I almost got it." Though I was nervous as hell to invite this man to come help me again, part of me certainly wouldn't mind feeling him against me again.
Aw man. I was finally starting to realize I was beginning to like this man more than I thought. For no good reason either, since he seemed to be a stoic jerk most of the time, not even acknowledging his record. Yet those few times we'd spoken or gone on a task together, he seemed to be oddly interested in me, yet distant at the same time. Like asking me extra questions or staring at me longer than he'd intended, but then pulling away or going silent when I seemed to match the energy. But there was no reason to entertain the thought anyway; there was no possible way this outlaw would even think of me in that way, let alone feel something perhaps aside from curiosity... And would I even want him to? How complicated would that be, figuring out I'd fallen for a man who had $5,000 on his head alone when I shouldn't have even been involved in his gang in the first place?
"Sure." As Arthur moved back behind me, reaching for my hands, Jack's giggling cut through my daze of thought.
"Do you like her, Uncle Arthur?" The kid blurted out.
"Oh, well I, uh... I'm not quite sure what you mean, Jack." This was quite possibly the only time I'd seen or heard Arthur Morgan genuinely caught off guard. I felt his body stiffen behind me as he responded.
"Do you like her, kinda like how Pa likes Mama? Or Karen and Sean? Or like how you and that one woman were... Mary? Or maybe more than that." Jack was innocently tapping the water right outside the boat as Arthur and I awkwardly stood there, refusing to look at each other. This kid was observant, huh?
"Well, she's done a lot for us," Arthur mused, breaking the brief but excruciating silence. I could hear the tension in his voice. "She's been a friend to us, and spent some time with you too, so sure -- I think she's a nice lady."
Even though I could tell he was appeasing Jack more than anything, I still felt a twinge of warmth in my chest at the baseline compliment. Guess I ain't too hard to please, or maybe it's just because I heard Arthur saying it aloud.
"Okay." Jack shrugged, then glanced at me. "Do you like Uncle Arthur, Ms. Summer?"
At least the awkward moments between them gave me some time to conjure up a response. I smiled down at Jack. "I think he can be a real nice man, even when he acts all tough." I could sense Arthur shooting me a glare, but I pretended to not see it.
"Let's get you back to camp," Arthur grumbled quickly, sitting down in a huff. I was a bit surprised by his abrupt stop, barely giving me time to get situated before he started rowing to shore.
"Aww, but I thought you said I could catch another one?" Jack whined.
"Ain't much time. 'Sides, Dutch asked me for me earlier." Arthur kept his face down, his worn hat covering most of his expression.
"Aww. Okay." Jack sat down and gazed off without another word. I did the same, feeling confused and moved at the same time. Almost like every other interaction I've had with Arthur. Though it was a weird situation, sure, we both seemed to have good responses to Jack. I was pretty curious as to what set him off -- it's not like he confessed to liking me more than a baseline acquaintance, and I was sure he didn't feel that way in the slightest.
The boat bumped up against the shore, next to the dock back at camp. Arthur hopped out and pulled the boat farther in, allowing Jack and I to hop off onto drier sand. He began to walk off without saying anything but then hesitated, glancing back. "Good job today," he huffed to Jack. Then he was around a corner in an instant, out of sight.
"Thanks for coming with us, Ms. Summer." Jack beamed at me before rushing off. Abigail had emerged from her tent, receiving a super-excited boy who ran up to her arms. "I caught my first fish!" I heard him cry as she laughed at his energy. I walked off towards the outer edge of camp before I could hear more, towards the hitching posts.
"...you gotta go meet the sheriff in town. Apparently the Grays have some work for us." Dutch was speaking to Arthur by his horse. Arthur gave a heavy sigh as he brushed her.
"You sure this ain't a trap? It couldn't have taken 'em too long to figure out it was us, Dutch."
"Sheriff Gray was awfully thankful when he asked for our help," Dutch mused. "Take Sean, Micah, and Bill with you."
"That don't mean that--"
"Wait, let me go into town." I had stepped forward without thinking much, breaking into their conversation. Both of them looked over at me, surprised. "We don't know if they know, but... I could get a good read on 'em. Save you boys from walking into a deathtrap. They know me 'round town and might say a lil more." There was a sense of foreboding in me, like I could just tell this plan had bad news written all over it.
Dutch cocked an eyebrow, then nodded. "Perhaps you are right, Ms. Summer. Since we have you, we might as well use your gifts." Arthur said nothing, just peered at me oddly.
"Right, well then... I'll deliver the news to Sheriff Gray that we'll hold off for a few days." He nodded, gesturing at me. "Gives Ms. Summer some time to get back into town, mooch around the townsfolk, and get our information. We go from there." Dutch walked past me, putting a hand on my shoulder briefly before continuing. I had a small shudder as he passed.
I nodded, looking down at the ground. Though it seemed I was knee-deep in the mud with this gang for some time, something still felt awfully wrong to be snooping around for their sake. But if I could help avoid some sort of blowout, I guess it was for the greater good, right?
"Well, don't go gettin' yourself killed for some reconnaissance." Arthur grumbled as he put the horse brush away.
"I know my way 'round these folk... not used to snoopin', I guess, but word spreads fast 'round here anyway." I shrugged. "Wouldn't take long for me to figure it out."
"Right, well, be careful." Arthur cleaned off some arrows lazily as he spoke, as if stalling. I hesitated again before speaking, knowing my words would probably would set him off.
"...Why did you end Jack's fishin' so early?" I tried to come off innocently curious.
Arthur shook his head. "Told ya, Dutch wanted me. I forgot til then."
"Mmhmm." I crossed my arms. "Seemed a bit rushed to me."
"Sorry for cuttin' off your lessons," he muttered. I couldn't really tell if it was sarcastic or not, so I decided to be a little lighthearted.
"Well, I was thinkin' more so for Jack, but yeah... I coulda used another swing or two." I leaned my weight to my other hip.
Arthur chuckled. "Would take more than that to teach you."
"Funny." We both chuckled, which was both new and comforting. There was a brief silence and then my overly-zealous self decided to risk it yet again.
"When Jack asked you a question... about that woman... you got real tense." I could practically see his body stiffen again. "Is it because of her?"
"Look, Ms.--"
"I know, I know you don't know me well," I added quickly, putting up my hands, "and you really don't have to tell me, honest. I just could see there was something goin' on there and... well, I'm being nosey again. Guess Dutch got the right girl for the job." At this point I guess I was rambling, but I was quickly trying to undo the clear mistake I made in mentioning the lady.
To my surprise, he didn't yell, or retort, or anything of the sort. He just paused, his hand on his horse. "Wanna take a ride?" he muttered hoarsely. "It's stuffy here."
"...Sure." I hurried over to Mabel, quickly unhitching her and bringing her over to Arthur.
"Let's go." He took off briskly into the woods. I swung myself onto Mabel and followed, not at all knowing what to expect with this man except that I was pretty sure he wouldn't decide to kill me. Not much different than usual.
~~