Ghosts of the Past [RDR2]

Chapter 6 - To Owe a Farewell

Word count - 1662 (short)

Old wooden boards creaked beneath the feet of many people walking up and down the verandas of the town stores and saloons. Each and every person was entirely focused on their own life and own thoughts, too busy to so much as look at those surrounding them. Yet Arthur Morgan watched them all. Hat tipped down to almost entirely shield himself from view, he looked onto the faces of those passing by, keeping a keen eye out for one woman in particular. He had been sitting perfectly still on the wooden bench outside the Inn for quite some time, watching across the road to the doors of the bar beyond.

Strawberry was not a particularly favourite place of Arthur's. He regarded it as too loud for a town as small as this. But he was not here to enjoy the ambiance. Arthur had returned to look for one woman. Rosemary Levenson.

Many years ago, when they had first met, he had told Rosemary that they would never see each other again, only to return two days later and throw pebbles at her window like something out of a story book. He had felt this magnetic pull to the woman unlike anything he'd felt before. As though, had he not returned to the Levenson farm, his heart would have simply ripped out his chest and found its way there without him.

This same feeling was happening again.

He couldn't say he didn't like it, in fact the feeling of care and compassion so strong only made him feel warmer, almost more human. But he hated it all the same as it made pretending Rosemary was not nearby impossible.

The keen blue eyes had been so busy watching the swing doors of the saloon, he hadn't stopped to consider she might be elsewhere. When the strong scent of lavender soap passed him, he glanced up to see the wavy brown hair of Rosemary passing merely inches from him. She had her nose stuck in a medical journal and her hair was slightly damp. She had clearly just bathed in the hotel behind him.

The close proximity to his long long love sent his head into spirals as he tried to hide behind his wide brimmed hat as best he could. Rosemary, once she had crossed the street to the saloon, pushed the book into her dress pocket, paused for a long moment, let out an audible sigh then entered.

Standing slowly, Arthur Morgan crossed the street and entered the saloon after her, slinking into the shadows of a table in the darkest corner of the bar, watching Rosemary closely as she spoke to the barman "Hopefully a quiet night tonight." her voice sent shivers up his spine.

"You ever find that guy that was lookin' for you the other night, Lauren?" the barman asked, busying himself with pouring dark amber whiskey into a low ball glass.

Rosemary faltered as she turned to begin what must have been her normal clear up around the place "Nah. No idea who that was. You gotta clean these glasses better, Pete. Could someone give god damn Scarlet Fever."

"Give me a break."

So Arthur watched, for almost a full hour as Rosemary stayed behind the bar, talking to people, pouring drinks and smiling with those sparkling green eyes that made his legs give out from under him. He watched until the barman finally noticed him "You, sir, you ain't even bought a drink. You gotta buy or leave."

The barman's voice had shocked Arthur, who hadn't even noticed him walking over. At this, he stood very quickly, keenly aware that this may bring attention he didn't want "Pardon me, my man. I'll be headin'." He spoke slowly, dodging past his confronter and walking quickly to the door. Arthur couldn't help himself, he had to do it. Chancing a glance back to Rosemary, he looked at her just as she looked up to see the commotion.

It was barely even a second, but their eyes connected. He didn't stop, however, Arthur continued out the bar to hear the audible sound of a glass falling from her hands and smashing against the floor. Cursing himself, Arthur took off in a sprint behind the saloon and mounted Laurel, whipping her into a sprint away.