Traveler trilogy Book 2, updates every Friday!
Five years after killing Levi Cornwall, Arthur Morgan is happy. He has a wife who loves him, an honest job he enjoys, and two beautiful children named Sadie and Hiram. All of it is turned on its head, h...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Jenny couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned in her bedroll, and all her thoughts were some variation of Mac and Micah. Micah's unwelcome touching of her the other day had set her mind to wandering, and now every time she found herself alone, she worried he'd be there to come up behind her and touch her in a way she found unwelcome and violating. That he'd grab her again, or worse.
She was starting to worry he was certainly capable of worse.
Sighing, she got up from her bed and walked through the camp, towards the lake. This late at night, only those on the guard shift were typically awake, and she didn't expect anyone to be out here, in the darkness, smelling the refreshing scent of wet sand and lake breeze and algae. And yet, someone was here, sitting on a dead log, staring out over the water with a faraway look on his face.
"Hey, Arthur," Jenny said quietly, hoping not to startle him. "You couldn't sleep either, I take it?"
He looked over at her and shook his head. "Ain't slept much since Blackwater, truth be told."
"Could you use some company?" Jenny asked. "If not, I understand."
Still, Arthur gave her a sad half smile and patted the log next to him. "Sure."
They sat quietly for a minute without speaking. The night was very peaceful, and the only sounds were the lapping waves as they hit the beach and the chirping of the crickets in the darkness. Way off in the distance, a group of coyotes yipped like a chorus of demons, singing their songs to the bright, full moon.
Here in the moonlight, so bright it made the surface of the lake look like liquid silver, Jenny felt herself beginning to calm down a bit. Arthur's strong presence next to her helped somewhat as well. She knew if Arthur was around, Micah wouldn't be. Reassured by this thought, and without quite knowing why, Jenny scooted a bit closer to Arthur and laid her head on his shoulder.
She felt him stiffen from the unexpected touch, but he said nothing. His gaze didn't move from the horizon, and his breathing remained deep and even. He smelled like leather and sweat and cigarette smoke. To some it might have been unpleasant, but to Jenny, it just reminded her of Mac.
Mac had smelled almost the same way; after all, he and Arthur led almost identical lifestyles. In fact, if she closed her eyes, she could pretend for a minute that this was Mac's shoulder her head rested upon. The thought brought tears to her eyes because of how much she missed him in that moment. If only he were here, beneath the moonlight with her. If only he hadn't died.
"Penny for your thoughts," said Arthur at last. "I can tell you're tryin' not to cry. You've got the sniffles."
She could feel her face flushing bright crimson, but in the darkness there was no way Arthur would be able to tell. "I was thinking about Mac," she said quietly. "I miss him. I don't think I've ever wanted to touch someone again so much."
