Ghosts of the Past [RDR2]

Chapter 15 - The second lake.

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WORD COUNT - 1936 (SHORT)

Despite the warm weather, Rosemary Levenson felt cold as she watched Arthur's receding frame. But she needn't have felt so lonely. After all, Arthur Morgan only made it five metres before he stopped in his tracks, seemed to pause for a moment's thought, then whirled back around "You wanna take a ride with me, Rose?"

The question was asked seemingly as though he didn't care what the answer might be. But he did, of course. The look of hope in his eyes gave that away. It didn't take a genius to understand why he was asking. An attempt at re-sparking what they had. Those stolen nights. Time alone, uninterrupted by others.

Increasingly aware that she was yet to answer, Rosemary gave Arthur a small nod in approval "Yes. Sure. I'd like that." Her answer was voiced in a forced kind of calm, as though she too was not bothered by the real outcome of this. When in reality she was. It was all she cared about.

Taking one step back towards Rose, Arthur looked her up and down "Alright then. Let's go." He said, motioning towards where the horses were mulling around.

The memories of when they used to go riding together flickered through Rosemary's mind. She never had a horse of her own saddled and ready to go, as she never knew when Arthur might come by. So instead she would remain on the rump of Arthur's horse. Now? Well now things are different. Now they would ride separately. Serving as another stark reminder that no matter how hard they might try, this was not 10 years ago, and they were not 25 anymore.

Still, ever the gentleman, Arthur lifted Rosemary onto Sammy's saddle with ease, hands lingering briefly on her hips as she situated herself, before he mounted Laurel.

In spite of herself, Rosemary felt her cheeks heating up at Arthur's touch. Just as electrifying as it had been 10 years previous. "So, where to?" Was the question, although the answer did not matter so much.

"No clue." Arthur's voice was as smooth as melted butter. Rumbling in a low baritone from somewhere deep within his chest as he clicked his stirrups gently into Laurel's side. "Somewhere quiet though. That's for sure."

"Quiet." Rosemary echoed his promise, the implications of the term running through her like a warm breeze. "Well if you take me to someone's barn today, at least don't set fire to their wood pile?"

A low rumble of a laugh fell from Arthur's mouth as his memory cast back. "I will do my utmost not to set any fires this evening, Miss Rose." His voice was sarcastic as he looked over his shoulder to ensure Rosemary was close behind. "Though, if I remember correctly, you rather enjoyed that stunt."

As the camp disappeared behind the tree line, Arthur had led them onto the bank of the great Iron Lake. "I believe I was saying something about being young and dumb at 25. Pyromania didn't seem too terrible to be back then."

Once again Arthur grinned, looking down at his hands gripped around the reins as he shook his head "Well I reckon I might not be so young anymore, but dumb sure. And I still enjoy the partaking of a little pyromania."

The pair moved down the bank of the lake, now riding next to each other as they went. "You are mad." Rosemary stated, somehow her voice laced with affection "Always have been, and probably always will be."

"What makes you say that, the bank robbery, the arson or the shoot-outs with the law?" Arthur was quick with his response. Wasn't he always?

His reply drew another laugh out of Rosemary, whose face was lit with a smile "How about all of the above. Not to mention playing Five-Finger-Fillet, risking losing a finger, all for the lowly bet of 25 cents."