You sat up in your cot, using the lamp by your bedside to read a few pages of the book Mary-Beth gave you. None of it stuck with you though, your attention taken by impatience instead. It was never easy to wait for Arthur to return from a job, even if you had the reassurance of the other boys going along with him. They protected one another out there, covered each other, but your nerves still got the better of you. 

Just as you flipped the page, you heard the horses riding back into camp. You let out a breath of relief at the sound, glad to hear some of the others cheering and laughing instead of gasping and shouting. You waited a few moments before moving to get up, anxious to go check on Arthur, when you heard John’s voice close to the tent.

“You might wanna go rinse off before she sees ya,” he suggested. “A bloody face ain’t a pretty sight.”

Your heart began racing in panic.

“You’re one to talk about bein’ a pretty sight Marston,” Arthur grumbled. “Go on and let me take care of this.”

You watched the canvas move around the tent as Arthur pushed inside, his hat tilted down as low as possible to avoid your gaze. 

“Darlin’, I just gotta go clean up, I got dirt all over me, then I’ll-”

“Dirt?” you asked, standing from the cot and making your way over to him. “Since when am I bothered by some dirt?”

“It’s a lot of dirt,” he assured. “I look a mess, honey. Just give me a minute, alright?” 

After reaching for a clean shirt, Arthur began to turn and leave the tent before you put your hand on his shoulder, gently pulling him back. He let out a long sigh as he hung his head, knowing he was caught out. 

“Arthur,” you called to him softly, your voice low and worried.

Arthur’s body was a warm surprise behind you when you opened your eyes to the beginning of morning sun shining through the tent, suddenly remembering you were not alone. You had spent so long apart, it was hard to believe you weren’t still dreaming. 

You rolled over slowly, an easy smile growing on your lips as you pressed your bare chest to his own, hugging him close. He let out a long hum of content, his arms winding around you lazily as he fought against waking. 

“Mm, sorry,” you mumbled, voice groggy and slurred. “Go back to sleep.”

Arthur yawned before he tucked your head beneath his chin, pressing a kiss to the top, as his fingers swept softly along your spine. 

“Ain’t quite sure ‘m even awake,” he huffed.

You pressed a gentle kiss to his neck, your hand moving up to slide along the nape. As if you needed to be impossibly closer. 

“I missed you,” you sighed. 

“Missed you too, sweetheart,” he whispered, squeezing you tight. 

Thank you! Just posted x

Masterlist

Hey guys, here’s a collection of all my work so far. I have a list of prompts to work through but feel free to send any of your ideas and I'll do my best to write something you’ll enjoy x

Arthur was searching frantically from the moment he lost sight of you. The bar was full of rowdy drunks and the music forced them all to shout yell their way around. If you were amongst the crowd, he certainly couldn’t see you. 

As the minutes passed, Arthur became more agitated. He began shoving people out of his way as he moved around the room, opting to check upstairs when he had no luck. A few ladies called for his attention as he made it to the corridors upstairs, but he paid them no mind as he kept moving along. He pressed his ear to the doors of the rooms, but he couldn’t hear anything alarming. 

That was until he made his way to the end of the hall. Someone was struggling inside the room, banging against the floor while a man shushed them and laughed. Arthur pushed against the door.

“This room’s taken!” the man called back.

That didn’t matter none to Arthur who grit his teeth and kicked the door in, watching as it fell to the floor and exposed the man on top of you. 

Your eyes were wide with fear, you hands scrambling to grab the chair nearby. Your blouse had been ripped open, you skirt hiked up your waist, and the man had his buckle undone as he held you down. One of his hands laid across your mouth, squeezing your jaw to keep you quiet. 

“Jesus! Who the hell do you think you are!” the man shouted. 

Arthur didn’t say a word in response. Instead, he marched forward and grabbed the man by his collar and lifted him up, slamming him against the wall with enough force to make the man dizzy.

“You slimy, rotten, piece of shit!” Arthur growled. “Ain’t no man treat a lady like that. Ain’t no goddamn man!”

He tried to push against Arthur, reaching out his hand to shove in his face, but Arthur caught him and bent his fingers back, listening as they cracked and broke in his hold.

“Ahhhh! You son of a bitch!”

Arthur swung until his fist collided with the man’s face, over and over, until he passed out against the wall and slid down to hit the ground with a heavy thump.

With blood covering his knuckles, Arthur turned to you and saw the horror on your face. Not from his actions, but from how close you came to being absolutely violated. 

“C’mon now, we gotta get outta here,” he sighed, shrugging off his coat and slipping it onto you instead.

You held your arms steady as he dressed you, helping you stand and pulling your skirts back down again.

“Hey, look at me,” he whispered, cupping your cheek. “You’re alright now, okay? I got you.”

You shook your head as you looked at him, your eyes filling with tears. 

“I c-can’t go out there,” you cried. “I can’t h-have them lookin’ at me like this.”

“We’ll go out the side, no one gonna see us,” he assured. “Here, hold my hand, alright? I ain’t gonna let go, so just hold onto me and we’ll be outta here. Okay?”

You gave a gentle nod, taking his hand in yours. 

“Take a deep breath, alright? Take a second and just breathe.”

You looked up at him and used your other hand to wipe your tears, but they just kept coming. You were trembling now, full of terror and trauma. You couldn’t help as you leaned forward and pressed your forehead to his chest, wanting to be close and protected.

He wrapped his arm around you, resting his head above your own, and began to rub your back softly.

“It’s okay now darlin’, it’s okay,” he whispered. “I ain’t gonna let nothin’ like that happen again, you hear? Ever. I got you now sweetheart, I got you, it’s okay.”

Walking into camp was agony. Your leg felt like it was on fire, sending a pain throughout your whole body with each step. 

You had messed up a robbery earlier in the day, wasting a whole day’s work and a lot of effort on the gang’s behalf. Dutch had been furious, and Micah had taken to insulting and making fun of you at any chance he got. Bill had been grumbling about it all evening, muttering that they should have followed up his lead instead, where things would have gone smoother. Even Arthur had been a little cold to you, as well. 

The gang needed money, and you had let them all down. You owed them a good score. They were providing you with refuge, after all. You would have been left for dead weeks ago if they hadn’t come across you walking by the creek, desperate for some food and shelter. You told them you could help, that you had been robbing for years, and you had failed them. 

At sundown, you’d had enough. You took off on your horse, intent on bringing back something substantial to make up for the day. No one bothered to follow, assuming you were taking off to sulk to lick your wounds at the bar in town.

Instead, you had a satchel over your shoulder, packed with money and trinkets. It was late when you came back, but Dutch was still awake, reading by his lamplight. You dumped the satchel at his feet, hoping the bloodstains didn’t ruin the cash inside, and waited for him to look up at you.

You had latched onto Arthur very early on. He was the one to find you, after all. Tied to a chair in an O’Driscoll camp, bruised and bloody, crying for help. 

“Whoa, hey, hey, it’s alright,” he told you, his voice gentle. “I ain’t gonna hurt you, kid. Gonna get you outta here, alright?”

You clung to the back of his coat as he walked you out of the camp, shooting at the men still alive and ready to steal you back. Javier, John and Bill were running around the camp, taking what they could, clearing out the rest of the gang as Arthur lead you to his horse.

Dutch and Hosea welcomed you to the gang that night, offering you food and shelter, assuring you that you were safe. They offered to take you home, to take you to a train and get you back home safely. You broke down in tears when you told them there was no one left for you. No one out looking for their lost daughter, no one scouring the land in search of you. The O’Driscoll’s had killed them months ago, and you were on your own.

“Oh, you poor child,” Hosea sighed, shaking his head while he shared a look with Dutch. 

They weren’t in the best position to be taking on more mouths to feed, but they couldn’t let you go on your own. As Dutch preached, they saved folks who needed saving, and you were in dire need of saving.

“What’s your name, child?” the dark-haired man asked.

“Maya,” you whispered. “Maya Daniels.”

“Well, Maya, welcome home.”

You had been trying to avoid Arthur all day and although it was a small camp, you had managed to do so well enough. Arthur noticed, though. It was hard not to. Every time he moved nearby, you hurried away. When you sat at the table to drink your coffee, you saw his boots approaching from beneath your hat, and you gulped down the whole cup before making your way over to the wash area.

Since returning to camp the evening before, you had been doing your best to keep to yourself. You told the others you needed some rest, hiding away in your tent for the rest of the night. You had been doing well so far, keeping yourself busy with chores around camp, brushing down your horse and washing your clothes in the river nearby. But Arthur was no fool, as much as he proclaimed to be. 

You were sitting by a wagon on the edge of camp when you heard him approaching. With your hat pulled down low on your face, you could barely tell if he was looking at you, but you could see the frustration clear on his face. Before you had a chance to jump up from your position, he let out a long sigh and shook his head. 

“If you start walkin’ away again, I'm just gon’ follow you,” he shrugged, resting his hands on his belt. “So how ‘bout you spare us both the trouble instead of runnin’ off again?”