The wild, wild West (Arthur Morgan x f!reader)

CHAPTER 48 - Finding you

The mountains were cruel. I was an utter idiot to get myself into the situation to realise this a second time, but here I was. Honestly, I wasn't completely lost, I thought to myself while I stared at the map, desperately trying to keep my eyes open. As soon as the sun went up, I would find the snowy path again, and I would recognize the mountains as the ones sketched on the paper in my hands. I would be okay, I just needed to get through the night.

The cold wasn't that bad, really, as long as I didn't loose another finger to it. The little fire I had lit kept me warm. I had food for days after hunting on the way up and a decent amount of dry logs in my saddlebags. Smith found scarce grass under the thick layer of snow, he'd be able to sustain himself for a few days. We were fine, and still, I couldn't shake the lump of uncomfortable feelings in my gut.

The problem was that I still didn't know why I was even up here. I had been running on spite and self-hatred for the last few days, but it was wearing off and left numb pain and the vague question what I was going to do once I was back down. Return to the camp? I had to at some point, Cat was still there. Hopefully the gang was taking care of her.

I tugged the wide blue coat tight around my body. Arthurs coat. My thoughts circled back to him, time and time again. I wondered what he was doing right now. Maybe he was going on as normal, not really caring about the whole ordeal. I didn't want that to be true though. Maybe it was wrong to wish pain on someone else, but a part of me hoped that he was suffering the same way I was. But however he had reacted, I wasn't sure if I had the strength to ask him for forgiveness once I returned.

The distant howling of a lone wolf snapped me out of my thoughts. I gritted my teeth. Predators were the last thing I needed right now. With my head tilted to the side, I listened.

The mountains fell silent again. I released the breath I was holding and leaned back, closed my eyes and waited for the sleep to arrive.

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A man sat down on the table next to two others that were playing dominoes and greeted them with a casual nod. Curious glances stuck to him while he pushed the broad-rimmed hat that was hiding his face a little further down. It was rare for folk like him to appear in Strawberry. Rugged, mean-looking, mysterious and armed to the teeth. He reaked of danger.

For a while, he just watched the people around him silently, until he finally asked: „Has anyone been comin' through here lately?"

One of the locals rubbed his chin thoughtfully and replied: „Yeah...There's been a group of trappers returning from the grizzlies. They left yesterday. Tree guys, joined us here. I don't know about anyone."

The stranger hummed thoughtfully. „They didn't have a woman with them?"

„A woman? Why? You think they brought their own whore up with them?", the other man snorted.

A jung guy pushed his way past him to stand closer to the man with the hat. „I work at the counter in the hotel down the street." He pointed in the vague direction. „We've had a few visitors comin' trough. But if I tell ya... What's in it for me?"

The mysterious man reached for his pocket and placed a few Dollars on the old table. The boys eyes lit up with greed. „I'm lookin' for a woman. She rides a Shire horse, one that's completely black and has only a white stripe on its face. She wears a white blouse and a leather vest, possibly a long blue coat..." He described her while the men around him listened attentively, all hoping to earn some money by helping him with his search.

„Oh, yeah, I think I've seen her.", one of the listeners exclaimed when the stranger had finished. „I'm a farrier. A woman with a black Shire horse visited the stables a few days ago and had me put new special shoes on her horse. Ones for ridin' in the snow. She wanted some information on that horse they say is up on the mountains. An Arabian."

„She was in the hotel, too.", the boy from before chimed in, clearly annoyed that someone had stolen the attention from him. „She left two days ago. Armed to the teeth, she was. Had a black Shire, just like you said. Barely talked to anyone, but it seemed that she was stockin' up for somethin'."

A new hint of sharpness appeared in the strange mans voice. „What's that business with the Arabian?"

„There's talk of one up at Lake Isabella. Supposedly a very smart and fast one. No one's been able to catch it though, and the way up is very dangerous. There are wolves and bears around."

„Thanks." The stranger stood up, left the table and the money, ignored the argument that broke out when the boy wanted to grab the dollarbills.

He mounted his grey mare, a tall, well built hungarian warmblood that waited for his return by the bridge in the middle of the town. „Let's go, girl." His voice was heavy with worry. „Let's find her before she gets herself killed."

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