(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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A frosty few days had passed; cold by measures of which you and Arthur had not had much conversation beyond the necessary means.
You could tell by his stiff stature, evasive gaze and blunt tone that he was still very upset with you - but in your mind, you had saved his life and come to no harm yourself - so why did he insist on holding this stupid grudge?
You weren't about to apologise like some sweet maiden wife, if Arthur wanted that or expected it - he had chosen the wrong woman.
Instead, you chose to match his stubborn attitude and hold out on talking, waiting for the apology you felt you deserved. The outlaw-turned-ranch hand went to work each morning on Pumpkin and disappeared for most of the day working until he came home for dinner. You amused yourself with the thought he perhaps like to spend all day with his horse, as she was the only 'woman' that listened to him.
His lunchtime break stop-offs were a thing of the past it seemed, for you were left alone from dawn until dusk over these past few days. It could be lonely, but you busied your time tending to the house and keeping to yourself, not that this lessened everyone else's ability to see the cracks in the previously idyllic seeming relationship of their best ranch hand.
It was now day 3 of yours and Arthur's 'strike of silence' against one another - and you had taken to soaking up the morning sunshine on the porch, positioned as usual in the comfy rocking chair Arthur had built for you some time ago.
Your skilled hands deftly knotted wool over and under itself, gradually weaving together another baby-cardigan in a mutual shade of white and yellow, as it was still unknown what you were having.
With an incredible ability to knit without really looking, you instead watched as the morning work bustled on at Applewood Creek.
Across the way, some of the young lads were trying to lead a particularly stubborn mare out of the stable with her new foal, the poor little thing barely able to find it's feet still on those impossibly long legs. A small smile captured your face at the display, before movement to the right of your eye's periphery drew your attention.
Coming your way, was young Peter Leverson. You hadn't seen the ranch owner's hard working son since the night of the trespassing, and an uncomfortable unease pitted itself like a small stone at the bottom of your stomach.
The only softening blow to this wave of anxiety was the sight of your beloved Fox, who was now back working hard as Peter had been asked by Arthur to ride the Thoroughbred (at your request also) due to the fact seeing the fine stallion turn to a field ornament was most depressing.
"Good morning, Mrs Callahan." Peter greeted you, gloved fingertips flicking at the brim of his worn stalker's hat in a friendly manner.
"Morning, Peter." You smiled pleasantly, hoping it glazed over the initial worry you had felt seeing the young man. A lot of the workers had been avoiding you since the trespassing incident (perhaps following suit from your 'husband') - but you thought word had spread quickly around the ranch about the suspiciously good shot of a woman.
