The Dusty Shamrock ~ OC RDR2 fanfiction

Chapter 10

The party had started. Music filled the air, Dutch's gramophone was playing an upbeat song that was easy to get along with. Karen and Sean were dancing, just as respectfully as I'd taught Sean. That was perhaps the only good thing I did teach Sean, how to treat a lady. I reminded him all time, I don't know what he'd do without me. Javier was happily nodding his head along to the rhythm of the music, Bill was drinking to no surprise, Charles seemed to be having fun too. Dutch and Hosea we're discussing something off to the side. Mary-Beth was hidden away in her tent, writing something. Uncle was asleep, his 'Lumbago' was playing up again. Micah was grumbling about something to do with the 'greaser'.

My thoughts were broken by Arthur.
"May I have this dance?" He held his hand out to me, I delicately placed my hand in his.
"You may" I smiled. We chose to dance closer to the gramophone. Arthur placed his left hand in mine and his right settled on my waist. I rested my hand on his shoulder and my other was nestled in his larger one. We swayed, merrily to melody of the music. It was a beautiful moment in time, for once it didn't feel like we were outlaws. We were people, beautiful people just having a nice time in one another's company.
"The feathers in your hair make you look really pretty" My dance partner mused.
"I'm not really pretty usually?" I chuckled.
"Uh-I- That's not-"
"Calm down, Arthur. I'm jus' kiddin'" I patted his cheek and let another low chuckle escape my chest. "Little thing called Sarcasm" Arthur smiled and seemed confused for a second or two.

Dutch turned off the gramophone to make way for Javier to play the guitar. Arthur and I were just about sit down when Sean came up to me with a familiar instrument I'd played in my youth.
"Bronagh, I have your tin Whistle. We hoped you'd play something for us" He handed me the long tin whistle, I wondered where he'd gotten it but then I decided it would be better not to know. I nodded, I would play something but only one one condition.
"Okay.. but on one condition" Sean looked to me with hope held in his eyes "You have to sing Peigín leitír móir with me, just like we used ta' do back in Donegal" I playfully punched my shoulder, trying to remind him of all the fun trouble we used to cause. If we weren't causing trouble, we weren't having fun when we was young. "Of course I will, big sis! Time for us Irish to show these Americans how to have some proper fuckin' fun" I laughed with my playful younger brother, we were always full of energy.

Despite his age, Sean was taller than me. Quite a bit taller than me, actually. However, he made sure that his size never made his respect for me falter.

I walked over to the campfire where the others were waiting for me to play.
"Us two are gonna show you how the Irish party, where's the whiskey?" The camp laughed at Sean's jest as we sat down to serenade the gang. My brother nodded to me, telling me that he was ready to start singing. I began playing the tune that was familiar to Sean and I as children. I hadn't played the tin whistle in while, but I certainly wasn't rusty on it. The sweet tune flowed from the tin tube as I played to my hearts content. Sean's voice danced across the fire as he sang, and mine did too when I wasn't playing the tin whistle:

"O gairim gairim í,
Agus gairim í, mo stór;
Míle grá le m'anam í
'Sí Peigín Leitir Móir!
Éirigh suas, a Pheigín
Agus seas ar bharr an aird
Comhar do chuid bullán
Agus féach an bhfuil siad ann.

Tá Bríd agam 's tá Cáit agam
'Sí Peig an bhean is fearr;
Pé'r bith fear a gheobhas í,
Nach air a bhéas an t-ádh.

Chuir mé scéala siar chuici
Go gceannóin di bád mór;
'Sé'n scéala 'chuir sí anair chugham
go ndéanfadh leathbhád seoil.

Tá iascairí na Gaillimhe
Ag teacht anior le cóir
Le solas gealaí gile
Nó go bhfeicidís an tseoid.
Curfá deiridh
'S ó, gairim, gairim í
'Gus gairim í mo stór
Míle grá le m'anam í
Is gearr go mbeidh sí mór!"

When we'd finished every single camp mate roared with cheers and whistles.
I saw Karen slip Sean a kiss on the cheek, just as Arthur had placed his arm around me and shown me a dashing smile.

The night from then on was filled with laughter, joy and utter fun as we sang our own songs. The drunken voices of Bill and Dutch slurred the words of the songs we sang, yet it only made it more enjoyable. More of our own entertainment, which made the celebration even more special.

Once the party died down, most of the campmates went to bed. The only ones left around the fire: Me, Hosea, Dutch and Arthur.
"So, Bronagh" started Dutch "I think you've proved yourself. You're quite the fighter, perhaps I may have made a presumption about you"
"And what presumption would that've been?" I raised my eyebrows at Dutch, I knew that many men made presumptions about women's capabilities nowadays, but I never thought it would've been Dutch.
"Well, seeing as you had a firm place in polite society-" I cut him off, right there and then. I shot back with.
"Polite society? I was never a member o' that. Do you know who my Father was? He was a wanted man, we only had that horse ranch because o' me. He went out killin' an' shootin', once I got older, I went out an' joined him." I said firmly, yet calmly.
"Yes, you've proved Hosea's point." Dutch got up and went to his tent. Hosea shook his head in disapproval.
"Don't worry about 'im, Bronagh. He's still havin' a hard time since Annabelle was killed" I nodded in understanding at Hosea words, explaining Dutch's assumptions of me. Hosea got up from his seat and patted me on the back as he walked over to his tent. "You two have a goodnight now" he tipped his hat to Arthur and I before he entered his tent.

I leant my head on Arthur's shoulder. The events of the day had me weary and tired. I let out a heavy sigh, in response, Arthur placed his cheek against the top of my head and squeezed my arm.
"You still up for that date tomorrow?" He rasped. I nodded against his shoulder and hummed in response.

"It would be a pleasure" I mumbled.