Blessed are the Peacemakers {[RDR2 Arthur X Reader]}

chapter 13; lines drawn

The next morning you awake, rubbing your swollen red eyes and feeling the hoarseness in your aching throat. Instantly, the memories of the previous night wash over you along with the intense agony that had manifested itself in the form of a headache and chest pain. Your body screams at you to stay in bed all day but you know that isn't wise, especially with Miss Grimshaw on the loose. You have to at least try to push on and the last thing you want is Arthur returning to camp finding you a depressed mess, weeping over him like a teenage girl. He wasn't aware that you had seen he and Mary at the theatre and you planned to keep it that way, cutting the relationship, or whatever you had, off without conflict or question.

Breakfast, which smelled amazing for once, was a welcome distraction. After dressing yourself, you decide to join the few eating at the round wooden table in the certain of the tents. They were all engaged in their own conversations and for this, you were thankful. It at least meant you didn't have to answer any questions about your disappearance yesterday. Pearson had managed to whip up ham and eggs. Bill, finally pulling his weight for the camp, had scored a boar yesterday evening and the eggs came from the newly procured chicken coop Hosea had bought with the camp funds. It felt good to have a fully satisfying meal, especially one you once ate as comfort food back in your days on your families ranch.

The heavy meal sat like a rock in your stomach making you feel even less inclined to any activity today. Looking around, you think of what small chores you could keep yourself busy with while anxiously awaiting Arthur's return. You aren't ready to face him, your emotional wounds are still open and sore. Before you can decide, you feel a gentle touch on your arm. Abigail's sweet face appears, giving you her signature genuine smile, tinged slightly with concern.

"Darlin', I hope you don't mind my sayin', but you don't look so well." She gently rubs your upper arm.

"I didn't sleep very well last night. I suppose I've just had a lot on my mind lately." You say with a shrug and a weak attempt at a grin. "Heat certainly doesn't help, It's making me feel sick to my stomach and it's still early."

"Why don't you take the day off? I'll cover your chores if you would like to rest or have some time alone." The kind woman offers. You've come to consider her your closest confidant in camp.

"Well... if you're sure then, I'd really appreciate that Abigail." You wrap your hands around hers.

"Don't mention it, [Y/N]." She gives you a wink before walking away, leaving you to do whatever you please.

Now you were left with a choice to make. Return to your tent and wallow or find something else to do for the time being. You decide a walk along the river would do you some good. Maybe you could take [Your Horses Name] with you to find a safe spot to wash her in the water. Finding it to be a good idea, you stroll over to the hitching posts and gather your horse, a brush, a small bucket and a rope lead. Walking past the gazebo and sheds to the back end of the property, the memories of Micah's gruesome death strike you. Pushing them aside, you step over the still bloody mud and continue on 'til you reach the water's edge. The deep water isn't safe so you search for shallower water.

After scoping out several spots, you finally settle on a shallow clear area of the nearby lake. You begin scooping water over the horse's beautiful hair, following up with the bristly hairbrush and switch back and forth between the two tools until her coat is shiny, clean and smooth. You slip her a peppermint as a thank you for being so still and patient with you. Further delaying your return to camp, you allow her to graze while you walk around, taking in the scenery. Admittedly, you were partial to the landscaping of Horseshoe Overlook although Lemoyne had it's own beauties to offer. There are many dangers lurking here so the men sideline you from helping out with both hunting and any jobs they managed to score. They say it's for your safety but you know it's just Dutch's way of punishing you for Micah's death.

The land is far from quiet. Gator's hum in the distance, birds squawk back and forth and what sounds like hundreds of frogs ribbit in an unpleasant melody. To tie it all together the ring of chirping insects adds a harmony, forming a Lemoyne country chorus. You find a good spot to rest against a mossy tree, it's roots climbing out of the soil provide you with a decent spot to sit and write for awhile. You'd almost forgotten about your journal in all the chaos of the last week and as you soon as you connected pen to paper, it all came pouring out.

After several hours of writing and small cat naps, you close your leather bound journal, binding it shut and let out a deep, sigh of relief, pressing it to your heart. Writing things down helped you both process your emotions and reflect on them. You felt almost immediately better, like a weight was lifted from your shoulders. Returning to a stand, you shield your eyes from the beaming sun and find your horse had not strayed far but had found a friend.

Taima.

The sense of peace disappeared as you franticly scan the area for Arthur, knowing he must be close by. Turning, you find him standing about three yards behind you, his arms crossed and his body language tense.

"Didn't find you at camp... Abigail said she saw you head this way and that ya weren't feelin' too good." He stated plainly, unmoving from his fixed position.

You whistle for [YH/N]. "I didn't sleep well. Just needed to clear my thoughts." She leaves Taima to gallop to your side. You grip her lead and adjust your hat before starting a slow pace in the direction of camp. Part of you was perfectly okay leaving Arthur stood there with no explanation whatsoever.

"That's all? You don't got anymore to say?" He follows after you, Taima naturally trailing behind.

"What do you want me to say, Arthur? Of course I appreciate you saving my life, yet again. It's a relief to know that piece of shit is gone for good." You steady your horse as you search for your next words. "I... I know you have a lot on your plate right now and... I just want you to know that you don't have to worry about me. You don't have to spend all your time keeping me out of trouble. I'm fine and can take care of myself. Whatever... this is-" you point between you and him. "You can let it go."

The words nearly kill you. It wasn't what you wanted but you knew it needed to be done. Arthur

"[Y/N]-" Arthur shouts, taking fast steps towards you.

"It's okay, Arthur. It's over." You give him a weak smile, feeling sure that you're doing the right thing so he can finally be with Mary. Not giving him a chance to say anymore, you spur your horse into a sprint and stride back to camp. Leaving the gunslinger alone to think things over and return at his own pace. The line was drawn and it was time to focus on moving on.

When you return, the camp is stirring with activity and you're feeling motivated to get to work.