Hidden Destinys || RDR2 - Arthur Morgan x OC ||

10. Stagecoaches and Micah Bell

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the Horseshoe Overlook camp. The gang members were busy with their daily routines, but the tension in the air was palpable. Dutch had planned a new job—robbing a stagecoach rumored to be carrying a large sum of money. Emma, Charles, and Micah were chosen to execute the heist.

Emma stood by the edge of the camp, adjusting her gear and checking her revolver. She felt a mix of excitement and apprehension. This would be her first job by herself, without people constantly watching her.

Charles approached, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the bustling camp. "You ready, Emma?" he asked, his voice steady.

Emma nodded, trying to steady her nerves. "As ready as I'll ever be. How about you?"

Charles gave a small smile. "Been through worse. Just stick close and follow my lead."

Micah swaggered over, his usual smirk plastered on his face. "Well, well, if it isn't the new girl. Hope you can keep up, sweetheart."

Emma shot him a withering look. "I can handle myself, Micah. Let's just focus on the job."

Micah chuckled, his eyes roving over her. "Feisty. I like it. You know, you and me, we could make quite the team."

Emma felt a wave of revulsion but kept her composure. "Not interested, Micah. Let's get this over with."

Charles gave Micah a warning glance. "Leave her alone, Micah. Focus on the job."

The trio mounted their horses and set off, leaving the camp behind. They rode in silence for a while, the only sounds being the rhythmic clopping of hooves and the rustle of leaves in the wind. Emma's mind raced with thoughts of the upcoming heist, but she pushed her worries aside and focused on the task at hand.

As they rode, the scenery changed from dense forests to open plains, the landscape bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. Birds chirped in the distance, and a gentle breeze rustled the tall grass.

Micah broke the silence, his tone playful. "So, Emma, what made you join our little band of misfits? You don't seem the type."

Emma glanced at him, her expression guarded. "Let's just say I didn't have much of a choice. Circumstances brought me here."

Micah grinned. "Circumstances, huh? Well, sometimes the worst situations bring out the best in people. Maybe you'll eventually warm up to me. I can be, quite persuasive..."

Charles interjected, steering the conversation away from Micah's probing. "It's not about fitting in, Micah. It's about survival. We do what we have to do."

Micah shrugged. "Survival's all well and good, but a little fun never hurt anyone. What do you say, Emma? Maybe after this job, you and I can get to know each other better." He said, raising his eyebrows suggestively, eyes hungrily grazing over her, like a wolf does before it snags its kill.

Emma felt a knot of irritation form in her stomach. "I'm not interested, Micah. Quit it before I put a bullet in your damn skull!"

Charles gave Micah a stern look. "You heard her, Micah. Knock it off."

Micah raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Just trying to lighten the mood."

After a few miles, they reached a vantage point overlooking the road where the stagecoach was expected to pass. Charles dismounted and surveyed the area, his sharp eyes scanning for any signs of movement.

"This spot should work," he said, turning to the others. "We'll hide behind those rocks and wait for the coach to come into view. When it's close enough, we make our move."