//BEARING ARMS//RDR2//ARTHUR x READER

Chapter Twelve

As he took the bouquet of pink carnations, Arthur thanked the shop owner and got back on his horse. On his way back to camp, he made a few stops at the side of the road to pick out a few more flowers to compliment the carnations. He decided to add in a few red poppies and white daisies in attempt to add more thought into the gift.

On the way back, Arthur had also picked up all of (Y/n)'s belongings from the cabin to bring back to camp. After her freak accident with the wolves, he would insist she stayed in a group. She was not as equipped to venture out on her own just yet.

By the time he returned to the camp, it was evening. "Hello, Arthur," greeted Uncle, "what's with the load you got there?" He was referring to (Y/n)'s few belongings.

"This? This is just (Y/n)'s stuff. I'm bringing it for the mean time she's with us," explained Arthur.

Uncle laughed, "Really? You brought her things over and for what? Three measly days?"

"What?" Arthur squinted his eyes, not understanding why there was a set time limit on (Y/n)'s stay.

"Well, rumor has it, " Uncle started, "she's only going to be allowed here until she's healed. Not healed completely, but able to care for her own."

Arthur refused to believe what he was being told. He knew Dutch's opinion on (Y/n), but that would not change his own plan for her. Arthur wanted to keep a closer eye on the lady. She needed someone to look after her while she got on her feet again. The wolf attack was a close call- one Arthur wished never took place.

"I'd ignore that little 'rumor' if I was you," Arthur suggested, "She's stayin' put here- longer than three days, that's for sure." He took the things and set them aside his own tent. Arthur then held the bouquet behind his back to surprise (Y/n) who was awake, lying on the sleeping cot.

"Arthur?" Called (Y/n), "There you are! I've felt awkward here alone. I don't know much of anyone here as you can imagine."

"You look better, and you sound better, too," he observed. He sat on a stool beside her listening to her talk.

She smiled, "Yes, well, thank you for bringing me here. You are a good man. You do know that don't you?"

He looked down, then back to her. "And you're a tough woman, Missy. I know you've been roughin' it out so," Arthur pulled out the bouquet, "I figured you could need somethin' to brighten up your evening."

"Oh, Arthur!" She gasped, "this is beautiful!" (Y/n) held on to the bouquet, sniffed the flowers, and inspected it. Then, she turned to face him, "You spoil me. You hunt for me, you cook for me, you spend on me, you save me, and now you bring me flowers. How on Earth will I ever learn to be on my own without your help?"

"I'm just doin' what I can. It's nothin', really," he said.

She reached and held his hand, "You are a good- no, an amazing man. You are capable of so much more-"

Arthur interjected, "No, (Y/n), I'm not. This, this is just how you know me to be. In this world, I'm no good and no better than a dead man caught by the law-"

"Don't give me that!" (Y/n) squeezed his calloused hand, "I've only known you for a short period of time, but I've seen and heard enough to know how self-deprecating you truly are. I am no liar when I say you are extraordinary."

"(Y/n), I-"

Knock, knock.

It was John Marston knocking on a wooden nightstand near the opening of the tent. "Uh, Arthur," he said before walking over, "Dutch wants to hold a meeting right now." He noticed Arthur's hand in closed by (Y/n)'s smaller, dainty hand, "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting something."

"No, no, we was just chattin', " Arthur pulled his hand away to scratch his head. He elaborated, "I just, just wanted to check in on how she's doin'."

John's eyes shifted from the bouquet to Arthur's awkward look, "okay, uh-huh. Well, hurry it up and meet us over at the fire." He shook his head while smiling to himself, hands on his belt. "Thinks I'm a fool," John mumbled to himself as he made his way to the gang.

Arthur quickly turned to (Y/n), "before I go, I gotta tell you- you're (Y/n) Johnson, now."

"What?"

"I had to come up with some fake name for you. If Dutch knows who you are, I just don't know what he'll do."

Just when (Y/n) thought things would be easier, they were not. Both of their lives were about to become a little more complex than before.