The nights on the farm were often quiet. Normally the only sounds where the horses fussing. Particularly the foul that seemed to take pleasure in waking Rosemary up in the little hours of the morning. Tonight, however, it truly was silent. Even the wind was taking a break. Then one light sound of a tap woke Rosemary from her dazed, sleepless dream. It was coming from her window.
Silence fell again, and with it, Rosemary shook herself down and laid her head back on the pillow. In recent nights there was always something putting Rosemary on edge, ever since that Arthur Morgan man had shown up in her stables. True to his promise, she hadn't seen him since.
Then the sound again. A light tapping on her window pane. The lady sat up fully this time, a frown crossing over the smooth forehead and eyes quinting slightly. Rosemary stood and with one slightly shaking hand, pulled back the curtains and looked out into the night.
Living out in the darkness of the farm this long ment she was rather accustomed to the dark. Seeing was not the problem here. Believing, however, was proving slightly more difficult.
Some ten metres from her window, stood just outside the treeline in front of her home, was Arthur Morgan. A new shirt worn, but this time fully buttoned up and ticked in almost was care. In his hand was a small collection of pebbles which he quickly dropped to the ground. When he saw her, he almost moved to stand straighter, looking around for any signs of other people watching.
Her heart felt like it was floating. This man had returned after she had convinced herself that forgetting about him was best.
Arthur tipped his hat to her, then moved his hand in a motion that suggested 'come here'.
Cheeks flushing bright red, Rosemary did so, pulling on a jacket and creeping down the stairs to meet him by the tree line of her home "What - I." She was lost for words "I didn't think I'd see you again."
Flattening his shirt in a strangely anxious way, Arthur cleared his throat "I shouldn't be here, but..."
Rosemary melted at his words, feeling an oddly intense feeling burning from her feet up into her head. "But?"
"Well I couldn't quite stop thinking of you, Miss Levenson." He answered, a hand going to the nape of his neck as he waited anxiously for Rosemary to give him a sign - any sign - that his arrival was welcome.
A simple smile was all it took for all of Arthur's tensed body to ease away as he relaxed at long last. "Would you like to go for a walk with me, Arthur? It's a real pretty night."
· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·
It was like seeing a ghost. Or a character from a story read years ago coming to life in front of her. The imposing image of Arthur Morgan stood, lit up by the orange glow of her fire light, was haunting. "Hello, Darlin'. Been a long time."
She was lost for words, trying to work out if she had already gone to sleep for the night. But he was real, this was happening, and she would have to speak "Arthur Morgan." She breathed out, rather lamely. He was in a muddied blue stand collar shirt, a look rather akin to what he was wearing the first night they met. He was older now, more lines had slowly etched their way into his eyes, wrinkles caused by the lifetime of squinting into the setting sun each night.
Of course Rose was older now too, she wondered if he was considering her new features with as much admiration as she considered his. Despite the additional ten years on him, Rosemary was quite pleased to note he had aged like fine wine.
Pressingly aware of the imposing silence between them, Rose cleared her throat once more, breaking her eye contact to look back down to her now burning dinner. Now with something to busy her hands as she sorted the food, she spoke once more "Somethin' to eat, Mr Morgan?"
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Ghosts of the Past [RDR2]
FanfictionWhen Arthur met Rosemary at the young age of 25, he was pretty much a goner. It seemed Arthur had a think for kindly little women. Maybe because deep down all he really wanted was an honest life on a ranch, with a lady he could worship and provide f...