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✬「☁️」✬
Amara glared at John. "Can you worry about getting this taken care of before asking who did it?" She shouted, her voice full of pain.
John shook his head and turned to Marybeth. "Get her up and to your tent so Miss Grimshaw can help her." Marybeth demanded, rushing back towards camp.
John lifted Amara from the ground by her waist. Amara wrapped her healthy arm around Johns waist to support herself as they slowly walked to his tent. Once they got to the tent, Hosea pulled opened the flap for them and John placed Amara down on his cot.
Everyone crowded around Amara, causing her to stress and her eyes welled up with tears that would potentially fall down her face.
"Can all of you get the hell out." John snapped. Everyone except Marybeth, Miss Grimshaw, and Amara, got out of the tent and waited outside.
After about ten minutes, Marybeth walked out of the tent with a small smile on her face.
"She'll be fine."
Everyone sighed in relief. A few people got up to go see Amara but was stopped by Miss Grimshaw who yelled at all of them to leave Amara alone. They all obeyed and went about their business, except for John and Lenny.
Susan made her way to John and said, "Let her rest, John."
The worried man nodded and grabbed a drink before making his way to one of the wooden tables placed in camp.
In the tent, Amara laid there, a bandage wrapped around her right forearm and a bottle of whiskey to her left.
Amara let out a grunt as she tried, and failed, to get up and grab the bottle of whiskey. She fell back down onto the cot and stared at the ceiling, her arm burning and throbbing. The bandage wrapped around her arm was already getting soaked with blood and would have to be changed soon.
The same thought kept repeating in her head like a broken record.
Why do the O' Driscolls want to kill me?
- - -
Amara woke up in the same tent she last remembered being in, Johns tent. Her arm felt much better but it still was very sore and every attempt of moving it made the woman wince in pain. The bandage around her arm had been changed.
She looked around the tent until her gaze landed on a sleeping John. His hat tipped over his face and head laying against a chest. Amara turned away before she could observe the hazel eyed man any longer.
Amara gazed up at the ceiling and let out a heavy sigh. She was so distracted by the silence and the peace she hadn't even noticed that John was awake and making his way towards her with a chair.
