Sign of the Times (Arthur Morgan x Reader)

Chapter Thirteen

Charles and I had rushed back into camp just as Arthur, John, and Dutch came galloping in on their horses. I handed Charles back his bow and tied my hair back as I made my way over to Herr Strauss. Arthur had picked him up and carried him to hit by the fire.

"What happened?" I asked, trying to remain calm, and observing Strauss's leg where, sure enough, he had been shot.

"Cornwall and some of his men arrived in Valentine. They took John and Strauss, here, hostage." Dutch explained, still out of breath from the action.

"You were right, (F/N). Cornwall's the one sendin' the Pinkertons out after us." John said, and I hummed in thought as I was concentrating on cleaning the wound.

"You're lucky, if you can believe it, Herr Strauss." I said, focusing on my work.
"H-how's that...?" He groaned, his face paler from shock than from blood loss.

"The bullet went straight through. It's a clean wound, should heal quickly." I said, wrapping it up for him.

"I'll mix you something for the pain here in a bit, Charles, could you please take him to bed?" I asked, and Charles nodded, lifting Strauss up and carrying him towards his tent.

"What about you three? You aren't hurt, are ya?" I asked, turning to give John, Arthur, and Dutch a onceover.
"We're fine, but we gotta move." Arthur said, shaking his head. I gave him a look as Dutch stepped over to his tent and began arguing with Hosea about what to do next.

"You're bleeding." I said, pointing out a spot on his upper arm.

"This, it's fine-" He started, and I quickly slapped the area. He winced and let out a small yelp of pain.

"Thought so. C'mon and let me take a look." I said, gesturing him to follow me as I walked towards his tent. He shrugged off his jacket as I began unbuttoning his shirt. He laughed lightly, and I lifted my eyebrow at him.

"What's funny?" I asked, getting to the last button, and pulling his shirt loose from his trousers.

"You're slightly... overeager, aren't ya?" He asked, and I shook my head, taking a look at his arm. It was just a graze wound, but it left a pretty nasty gash. I poured some alcohol out onto a rag and placed it on the wound. He hissed and cursed under his breath as it burned.

"Sorry..." I mumbled, dabbing carefully to make sure the wound was clean. As I was doing so, I couldn't help but feel my eyes roam across his upper body. He was very nicely sculpted with a few scars littered here and there across his skin. There was one prominent scar that was just between his collarbone and shoulder that got my attention, and I absentmindedly ran my fingers across it, wondering what could have happened to him to have caused such a large scar.

"Got stabbed... long time ago... I was maybe eighteen... nineteen." He said, as though reading my mind. His words jolted me from my thoughts, and I went back to focusing on dressing his wound, my face turning pink.

"You're not... are you getting embarrassed?" Arthur asked, a playful tone to his voice. I ignored him, but felt my cheeks growing hotter as the minutes passed.
"Aren't ya used to seein' shirtless men, after tendin' to Colm's boys?" He asked, and I swallowed a lump, nodding slightly.

"Yes, of course..."I said, tying the dressing tightly, and tossing him his shirt.

"So what's the problem then?" He asked, sliding his shirt back on his arms. I shook my head and felt a smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

"I'm used to seein' shirtless boys, Arthur... you're a shirtless man." I said, using a cloth to wipe my hands as I walked away from him, giving him a sly smirk.