take me back in time

distractions

She was right, again.
Arthur shot her a curious look out of the corner of his eyes, while he lifted Swanson at the back of his horse.
It isn't in his nature to be uncertain, confused and clueless, but this woman does strange things with him right from the moment he had laid eyes on her for the first time.
Sophie Kendall.
Plopped out of nowhere in the middle of camp, always this slightly frightened look in her big grey eyes, some would say she is mighty pretty; long dark-brown hair, soft facial features, all these damn freckles; but Arthur isn't interested in this kind of stuff. Hit him hard the last two times, no need for another round.
He heard John, Javier and Lenny talk about her last night at the fire, all of them a bit sweet on her, but this wouldn't last, at least not until another new halfway good-looking woman joins them.
She's like the new shiny toy everybody wants to play with and guess what; he has the honor currently. Great.
Arthur let his eyes roam over her body, these odd clothes still irritating the hell out of him but he had to admit; these bizarre pants hugged every part of her just fine, no real space for imagination.
The 'hoodie', as she told him, was a bit large on her small, not too small, frame and his face right in front of her breasts... well, no words for that.
He shrugged and shook his head, so strange. This tiny phone she had shown him earlier, so fucking weird. Everything about this woman seems weird, every word that comes out of this pretty mouth of hers; peculiar. She seems to know things she just couldn't, it was odd, so fucking odd and he was tired of it.
First the bar fight, then Swanson and Lenny said, that she knew his name as they found her before he could even tell it.
Maybe he should take her to this feller he met a few days ago down in Strawberry, what was his name again? Francis Sinclair? He had a strange way with words, too. They could get along fine and he wouldn't have to waste his precious time with her again.
One problem down, a thousand more to face.
Arthur sighed heavy, petting the backside of an unconscious Swanson at the back of his horse, drunk as a skunk.
Sophie stood next to him, grey eyes wandering over the landscape like she had never seen it before.
She was short, so short, that he could put the underside of his chin easily on top of her head, if he wanted to, which is not the case.
"We should take 'im back to camp.", he said drily.
She jumped, just a bit but he saw it.
He held her gaze as she turned, facing him again.
"Right. U-uhm... How?", Sophie motions to the saddle and Swanson.
"Shit. Well, we'll walk then. Not that far."
No way he would load his horse with three people, besides, this would have been a bit too close for comfort.
The thought of her back pressed against his chest sent a shiver down his spine, an unwelcomed shiver, which reminded him of the situation down at the river a few hours ago.
Despite his suspicion against her, he was also a little curious about some things.
"What do ya do with the picture?"
Sophie turned her head to look at him, while she walked next to him and his horse.
"Picture?"
"Yeah. The one down by the river?", he reminded her.
"Ah, well.", a soft chuckle escaped her. "If I had a printer, I would give it to you but..."
There, there it was again.
"P-printer?"
She frowned and then hesitated a bit. "Oh, crap... Just imagine a machine that can develop pictures, that's a printer."
Arthur was well aware of the fact, that he wasn't the brightest candle on the tree but he did know, that the photographers, like Albert Mason, develop pictures in some kind of chemistry or something like that, it's a hell of a progress and needs a lot of time. He had never heard of a machine that can take this part, maybe he has to ask him the next time he sees him, running from bears or other dangerous animals.
That man was an odd but lovely feller.
Sophie averted her eyes again, looking down at her grey shoes with this bright orange line on the side. Truth be told; they seemed comfortable but also unsafe, there is a reason why boots are high; snakes, dirt and twisting your ankle for example.
They walked in silence back to the camp, his one hand holding the reins of his horse, leading it next to him.
He was a good horse, not as good as Boadicea but regardless good and faithful.
The sun stood high, making the temperatures rise with every passing hour, Arthur could feel the sweat forming under his hat and in his neck.
"How is yar horse treatin' ya?"
Sophie smiled a bit, just a bit.
"Good so far. Didn't had the time to ride her again but she's sweet and well-behaved."
"Well, ya can take her out now.", he replied.
"Now?"
"Sure. I promised Dutch to take ya out shooting, remember?"
She frowned a bit, her hands fumbling at the hem of her 'hoodie'.
"I don't have a gun, Mr. Morgan.", she said quietly.
He shrugged. "Don'cha worry, ya can take mine. And it's just Arthur, Miss Kendall."
Sophie stopped in her tracks, eyes on him, body tensed and stiff.
"Whut?", he asked startled, one brow cocked, also stopping.
"Never mind... Okay, Arthur. Please call me Sophie likewise."