Ghosts of the Past [ RDR2 - Arthur Morgan ]

Chapter 35 - Kieran

Word count - 1971
Please vote and comment!

Chapter 35 - Kieran.

The murmur of idle chatter blended into the easy quiet of camp. Rosemary sat with Mary Beth, sewing up the gang's clothing. Mrs Grimshaw hollered commands at a hung-over Karen. The gang seemed for the most part, content. Although perhaps quiet.

"Why'd You keep asking?" Rose turned a question back onto Mary-Beth, who had been checking around camp for anyone who had seen Kieran that morning. He was notably absent - but he was probably just fishing. Glancing up from the needle work to observe the much younger woman, Rose tilted her head slightly. "Kieran always seemed a little... awkward to me." a light chuckle tumbled from her mouth as Rose thought back to when he joined her and Arthur on the walk around the lake.

Mary Beth shrugged, a little smile twitching the corner of her mouth "Well, maybe. But you do realise your man ain't exactly the picture of confidence, right?"

Rose's eyes glanced over to where Arthur was, entering the house with Dutch, then back to Mary Beth "He's confident. Just in certain areas." her voice came out soft, a little joking smile on her lips.

Nudging elbows gently, Mary Beth hummed "And where might those areas be?" She asked with a teasing grin. "Huntin'. Ridin'. Growling at folk till they leave 'im alone?"

Rose giggled a little, turning her head back down to her sewing "That what people really think of him?" she asked, smirking as she pulled another stitch tight.

"Arthur's always been a bit of a brooding type. Kieran - well he's open. Called me pretty." She said with a small smile on her lips.

This only made it clearer how young Mary-Beth really was. How innocent, in a life that didn't allow for innocence. Rose watched Mary Beth's smile and blush for a moment longer, before speaking up "I'm sure he'll show," she muttered. "But if he ain't back soon, how 'bout we head out looking?" She offered, thinking of how she felt when Arthur had gone missing all that time ago.

"I'd appreciate that." Mary Beth nodded.

A quiet moment settled between them as Rose returned to her sewing. "So... how'd you wind up here anyway? With this gang. Forgive me for saying - but you don't seem the type?"

"Actually it was Arthur who brought me in." She replied "I'd been picking pockets, and got caught. He chased the men off, asked me where home was. When I told him I didn't have a home, he brought me back to meet Dutch."

That sounded like Arthur. Rough and growling one moment, but a quiet saviour the next. Bringing in strays, even when his own feet barely had steady ground to stand on. She glanced at Mary-Beth's hopeful expression. Her hands were too clean for this life. Even with a needle and thread in them, she didn't belong among outlaws. "Well," Rose muttered, shaking the thought off. "He's got a habit of that."

"He's a good man..." Mary-Beth began, but her voice trailed off. Her gaze drifted past Rose, toward the camp entrance. Her brow furrowed. The sound of hooves trotting along the dirt path, and over the small wooden bridge. Kieran's horse. The pair stood. They weren't the only ones that noticed. Arthur on the upper Balcony leaned over to see the sight.

And what a sight it was. A body, slumped unnaturally straight in the saddle, as if impaled on an invisible rod. His shoulders were slick with blood, the fabric of his shirt stiff and black with it. And his hands, locked stiff with rigor mortis, still clutched the severed head of Kieran Duffy, fingers frozen as if in a final, desperate grasp.

For a long moment, Rose could do nothing but stare. Then, instinct took over. She grabbed Mary-Beth and turned her away, pressing the girl's head to her shoulder.