𝘊𝘖𝘕 𝘖𝘍 𝘙𝘌𝘝𝘌𝘕𝘎𝘌 | ᴘʀᴇ ʀᴅʀ2

Chapter Fourteen

Arthur didn't show up to camp until the late evening. The rest of the group sat around the fire as he rode up on Boadicea, his silhouette a mere shadow as he trotted in on his brown mare and hitched her near the other horses.

Hosea taught John to read by the firelight, and Dutch and Susan sat together, giggling and whispering sweet nothings into one another's ears. Rosalie was nauseated by the sight and had been counting down the minutes till Arthur would show up so she didn't have to bear it alone any longer. She had been trying to entertain herself with the volume of Little Women Arthur had got her, but it wasn't helping much.

Rosalie couldn't help but smile as Arthur walked over after hitching Boadicea. She sat on the ground, back against the log as her feet were kicked out in front of her. Lit cigarette between her fingers, she held out the pack to him as he neared the campfire an invitation to take one.

"Hey, mister. Where you been?" Asked Rosalie, looking up at him under the brim of her hat.

Arthur seemed to be in chipper spirits as he took a cigarette from the pack and placed it between his teeth. He sat on the log Rosalie leaned against, his leg pressing against her arm as he made himself comfortable. Her heart thumped in her chest at the contact. His leg was warm and comforting. She found herself leaning into him as he lit a match and held it to his cigarette, before shaking it out and tossing it into the campfire.

Arthur took a drag from the cigarette and blew out a line of smoke. "Jus' been exploring the city is all. Meeting some of the folks who live there." He answered, a smile ghosting his lips as he seemed to recall something. He looked off in the distance and didn't meet her eyes.

Rosalie raised a brow at his smile. "You? Mingling with the citizens for... fun?" She reached up to feel his forehead with a grin. "You feelin' alright, cowboy?"

Arthur scoffed and swatted away her hand, though his smile didn't wean. "Yeah, I was minglin' or whatever. Somethin' wrong with that?"

Rosalie shrugged and took a drag from her cigarette. "No, but it's just strange for you is all."

Arthur paused, a faraway look in his eyes as he seemed to be pondering something. "Maybe... maybe I'm jus' feeling different about things is all."

"Different in what way?" Rosalie asked.

She wasn't sure where this thoughtfulness was coming from, as Arthur didn't usually speak like this. Everyone else at the campfire seemed oblivious to their conversation. Hosea was still helping John sound out his words, and Dutch had led Susan into their shared tent. Rosalie looked up at Arthur, her attention fixed on him as he grappled with how to explain himself.

Arthur sighed and waved his hand, cigarette in the other. "Ahhh... I dunno. You ever meet someone who seems to... I don't know how to put it. Someone who makes you feel all weird? This... eagerness to see em' again, see them smile, or spend time with em'?" He asked, his face twisting as he looked down at Rosalie with the hope that she understood.

Rosalie didn't say anything, her chest clenching as she met his gaze. Her breath caught in her throat, and she found herself struggling to form a coherent thought as she stared into his eyes. Arthur was oblivious to the feelings thundering through her. All she could feel was Arthur against her side—the warmth of his body, the scent of leather and gunpowder, mingled with the underlying layer of sweat from being outdoors in the heat all day. Her throat was dry, and butterflies erupted against her ribcage.

She felt like she was going crazy.

"Yeah," Rosalie said gently, her mouth still dry, and her voice quiet. "I have."

Arthur stared down at her for a moment, before he shook his head. "I feel like I'm going crazy."

Rosalie resisted the urge to snort, the same thought running through her head moments ago.