Ghosts of the Past [ RDR2 - Arthur Morgan ]

Chapter 27 - Shady Bell

WORD COUNT - 2765
remember to vote and comment

The chaos of packing the camp as quickly as possible meant belongings were treated with minimal respect. Rosemary haphazardly threw rugs and blankets into the back of her wagon. "He was nice." A voice called out, slightly slurred, as though drunk. Rosemary turned her head mid action to see Karen Jones swaying heavily on her feet, a bottle of beer held loosely in her hand, threatening to spill any moment. "Sean. Sean he was... he was annoying. Loud. Full of himself but... good. He was good."

Rosemary took a small breath "Miss Jones, I am truly sorry for your loss." Though she didn't want to stop packing for long, keen to get moving similar to the rest of the gang.

"Did he talk about me?" She asked hopefully, balancing on one of the few remaining hitching posts.

"He didn't talk much about anything." Then she paused for a long moment "Were you close?" Rosemary asked delicately.

But Karen did not answer properly, she just scoffed "He... he wished." as she stumbled off. Rosemary watched Karen stumble away, her heart heavy. Loss was no stranger here, but some carried it louder than others.

"Don't mind her." Mary Beth cooed quietly from not far away, emptying pails of water "Her and Sean had this whole hate to love dynamic." Walking close now with an arm full of empty pails, pulling them into Rosemary's wagon "Not like you and Arthur have."

"What I- Me and Arthur, we're..." Rosemary stumbled over her words

Shaking her head of brown curls, Mary Beth laughed softly "You're not really going to deny it, are you? Arthur's head over heels for you." Her words struck a chord. But feel awkward and sheepish now, Rosemary still tried her best to not play into the idea.

"Mary Beth, please." she pleaded, trying to move away to continue packing "Arthur's a good man. But please don't go making assumptions."

"Miss Levenson." Mary Beth hummed, following Rosemary off towards Arthurs wagon "I didn't imagine the fact he chose to say goodbye to you, and just you, am I?"

Rosemary cleared her throat, picking up the belongings on Arthur's crates. A flower from his mother, an old newspaper clipping, a stack of papers. "Mary Beth, I beg you please, don't embarrass me."

Raising her hands in mock defence, she turned and walked off, giving Rosemary some much needed respite. She sat down heavily on Arthur's undressed cot, items in hand, and took a breath to herself, looking down at the items, not really seeing. Until the edge of one of the papers caught her eye. The word 'Rose' was scrawled on it, sticking out awkwardly from the small pile. Wanting to respect Arthur's privacy, she tried to ignore it, walking over to the chest at the foot of the bed and storing the items. The newspaper clipping, the flower... the papers."

Ignore it, she told herself, ignore it. As she pulled the other photos off the wagon wall. Copper, his dog, a photo of his father... the papers.

Suddenly her mind was consumed with curiosity. Just a peek wouldn't hurt.

So Rose sighed, taking his other things back to the foot locker, and placing them inside. Taking out the stack of paper again. Tugging out the one with her name on it, she looked over it, and to her own great surprise it was her. A drawing which must have taken time, and skill, and want to get right.

The need to see more had latched on. Rosemary flicked through the papers now. About 20 or so drawings of her. One drawing captured her mid-motion, absorbed in a book, her brow furrowed in concentration. Another was closer, intimate, with every detail of her face carefully rendered, as though he'd memorized her features.