Wolf In Sheep's Clothing

Chapter 10

Amelia woke up early the next morning. She sat up and yawned, stretching out her arms. She smiled before opening her tent flaps and stepping out. She looked around and then noticed Arthur's tent was no longer pitched next to hers. She looked around frantically, hoping to see him somewhere.

"Arthur?" She called. "Arthur!" There was no response. She ran her fingers through her blonde hair. "Fuck." There she was, alone again. She didn't even have any weapons to defend herself. She walked over to Trigger. She then noticed two guns on his saddle. She picked up a rifle and inspected it. A Springfield. She hummed and slung it over her shoulders. She inspected the revolver that was inside her saddle bag. A Cattlemen.

Then she noticed a money stack in the bottom. She pulled it out and realized there was two hundred dollars. She sighed and put it back in its place. She walked over to her tent and began to take it down.

He left her.

Alone.

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Amelia sat on her couch, her arms pulled tightly against her torso. She cleared her throat, not wanting to look up at Arthur. She kept her eyes down on her floorboards.

"So, you ain't gonna talk to me?" Arthur asked.

"I ain't got nothin to say to you." She replied harshly.

Arthur hummed. He picked up her book, making her eyes shoot up to him. He inspected the cover, a plain light green book. It wasn't very appealing but that's why Amelia loved it. He flipped it over to the spine, reading

"John Davis." Arthur looked up at her.

"My grandfather," Amelia said, reading his questioning look. "He writes. That one is one of my favorites."

"Yeah?"

Amelia nodded and smiled. "Yeah," she stood, walking over to her bookshelf, "he has a few others. But that one will always be my favorite."

"What're they about?"

"Silly romances," Amelia chuckled, "I hope to become a writer like him one day."

"Why don't you?"

"Are you kidding?" Amelia looked back at him. "I don't know the first thing about writing a book."

"That just means you gotta push yourself to do it."

Amelia shrugged, walking back over to the couch. She plopped down. "Only thing I'm good at is killin and capturing bounties."

Arthur hummed. He opened the book and scrunched his nose. "The hell kind of language is this?"

Amelia sighed, looking up at him. "Why are you here, Arthur?"

"You know why-"

"Don't be acting all noble." She scoffed. "Just because you saved me from gettin robbed don't mean you can act like the hero in some story book."

"Some hero, right?" Arthur shook his head chuckled. "So, I save you from starvin, then I run into you again goin after a bounty eleven years later, and this is how you treat me?"

"You were cutting me short-"

"And I said sorry, didn't I?"

Amelia let out a breath and looked away.

"You have no right to treat me like this," Arthur continued, "if I would've known you were a professional bounty hunter, I would've found other work, Amelia! You don't have any right to treat me how you have been!"