(Red Dead Redemption 2 Story)
'𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴, 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦 - 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶.'
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From the author that brought you 'Playing Dangerous'
You are the daughter of one of the most brutal, sought after 'Guns for Hire'...
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Ever since you broke the unwelcome news to Arthur of your 'expecting' state, things had become tenser than ever.
Dutch's brash and downright careless cavorting between the Braithwaite's and the Gray's seemed more of a concern than ever to yourself and Arthur, who worried in private over just how far these matters would go.
Arthur had been around less, but for good reason as he explained to you. He did a number of things; bounty hunting work for one, and also dabbled in a bit of horse selling - tracking down rare wild breeds to sell onto a strange pair of twins who were in the market for paying well for the right horses.
The small few discussions you'd made around your pregnancy, Arthur had decided that you both secretly try and stash away some cash, cash that otherwise would be ideally going into the camp funds. Arthur seemed nervous about his own suggestion, but you could tell he was trying to fight the thoughts of sneaking around his outlaw family to care for his new one.
So, you aimed to do the same - storing the cash away in the little lockbox containing your family mementos which no one would dare ever look in.
You tried to carry on as normal, taking share of the work around camp when needed - going on smaller jobs, much still to Arthur's distaste. Whatever he felt about this baby, much of it was disappointment and frustration, you imagined - he still was very protective over keeping you and the baby safe. He would come home to camp trying to find out what sort of jobs you'd been up to, and then scolding you if it was in the least bit dangerous (and let's face it, bar the washing up and sewing, what wasn't dangerous in this life?)
- Another muggy morning sat comfortably in the close Lemoyne air, the laziest rays of sunlight trying their very least to break through the smog of clouds.
You were currently not up to much, after filling up the horses' water and topping up the hay - you were taking a short five minutes to relax, sipping a cup of coffee (sadly burnt tasting and nowhere near as good as Hosea made them).
Before you knew it, your peace and quiet was disturbed by the likes of Micah striding over, Lenny following him with a concerned and rather distrusting look on his face.
"Hey, kid. Wanna earn some cash?" Micah asked like the most irritating salesman in the world, kicking at the leg of your chair. The gesture, coupled with his unbearable presence just made you sigh heftily - and suddenly you wondered with the queasiness in your stomach extended far beyond morning sickness.
"Depends." You returned coldly, fixing your brown hat on your head as you glared up at Micah from the brim. "If it means doing you any favours, then no." You snapped, folding your arms across your chest in your beige and tan coloured dolly waist shirt - watching Micah's shit eating smirk with an unimpressed glance.
