Old Habits Die Hard
Long days in the sweltering heat of Rhodes passed by as slowly and as lazily as Uncle napping away his time.
It had been a couple of weeks since the failed mission to reprimand the Braithwaite horses - and as fine a steed as they all respectively were, not even their silken coats and expertly bred conformation could of brought the money in as expected.
The boys had focused their efforts more onto the Gray family - Dutch had somehow managed to get himself and a few others a deputy status which you found mildly amusing. These were the last men to be expected with silvery law enforcer badges on their shirts.
With the Braithwaite side of the operation calming somewhat so as not to draw too much unwanted attention - the boys had apparently been running a few errands around for the Grays in town, cosying up to them and learning more secrets in hopes of finally getting ahold of this Yankee gold Dutch and Hosea had been hearing whispers of.
At the end of the day, you kept it quietly to yourself that Dutch needed to be reminded that these were only whispers, and that it would be wise for them not to pin their hopes on something that might not materialise. But of course, when was anyone going to listen to you? If you uttered a word your 'faith' would only be questioned, so you kept your mouth shut.
It had been fine for you either way, whiling away the time on small jobs much as you had been before - hoping for little or, ideally, no more input with this bloody family feud.
That hope shattered one late evening when Dutch, Bill, Arthur and Micah came riding back into camp as the sun was sinking deep into the almost bronze haze of Flat Iron Lake.
You'd been sat around the campfire, listening to one of Sean's rather amusing tales (it's truth was questionable). However, the very moment Dutch's imposing and attention-grabbing figure stepped into camp, naturally you could all help but look to him, all of you secretly wondering what their day had consisted of.
The gang leader made the way to his tent, chatting with Arthur and Bill when he unexpectedly set eyes on you.
"Can we talk to y' for a moment, (name)?" Dutch asked, but it was more of a command than anything else.
Slinking back to the outer periphery of camp, Micah looked slightly more drained than usual - you could only put it down to the hot toil under the sun's rays; but you were welcome of his quiet over the usual annoying behaviour and taunting remarks.
Making your way into Dutch's tent with the boys, you folded your arms across your carnation pink button up shirt, already slightly on the defence as to what would be asked of you.
"I ain't stealing anymore from either family, Dutch." You outlined straight away - an uncomfortable look on Bill's face at your brash statement.
"So if it's about that then, it's better I just go now."
YOU ARE READING
Lift Your Eyes {Arthur Morgan x Reader}
Fanfiction(Red Dead Redemption 2 Story) '𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴, 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦 - 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶.' - From the author that brought you 'Playing Dangerous' You are the daughter of one of the most brutal, sought after 'Guns for Hire'...