Chapter Text
“Well!” One of them spit at her. “We got ourselves a bounty hunter tonight.” Revolver kicked a few feet away from her, she was running out of options. She had a knife in her boot but wouldn’t be able to grab it fast enough with them hovering over her. The young lady was sure that she could fight them off if she had to, but there was always the question of what if.
Scarlett’s back against the wooden side of the building, dirt dusted her black pants. Her boot kicked at one of them. He stepped back, letting out a malicious laugh. Thoughts evading her brain, a plan was all she needed yet everything was going blank. They kept halfway lunging at her, trying to fake her out.
“I love little spitfires.” The one on the left hollered. His voice was higher, cracking after every word as if he was drunk out of his mind.
The right one though, he intimidated the young woman. His eyes were dark, voice quiet in the noise of the town. She could barely make out his face from the tan cowboy hat on top of black, shaggy hair. “You’re a pretty thing to be a lone hunter, darlin’.”
A strangled huff left her as her forearms dug into the ground. Heaving herself up, the bottom of her boot flew through the air before connecting with the man’s abdomen. With a grunt, he fell back. As soon as his back made contact, another man joined the party. All of ‘em started hoopin’ and hollerin’. Mostly at each other, but the dark eyes kept peeking at the young woman. A shot went off, ringing her ears. Scrambling, she crawled to her revolver and got to her feet. By that time, there was only one man standing, and he looked.. rough. Stubble covered his cheeks and a beat up hat was placed on his head. Shaggy brown hair peeked out from underneath. Wearing blue jeans that were held up by suspenders, a black cotton shirt covered his broad chest. His boots were almost up to his knees.
The tip of her gun aimed at him. “Easy.” He almost growled. “Easy now, just hold on, Miss.” Slipping his pistol back into its holster, his hands raised to by his head.
Breathing deeply, she realized that her gun was shaking to the point of being noticeable. Well, of course, those men terrified her. Cornered her without her horse and got her gun away from her. It had never happened to her since being out on her own.
“Are you alright?” His voice was gravely, but soft.
Panting, her eyes fell to the ground. Revolver slipping back into its designated place, her nimble hands found her waist. Now that the situation was over, her mind couldn’t stop. Going places that she hadn’t been in a while.
The stranger just stood there, watching. Hands resting on his buckle, her head was propped to the side. She could feel his eyes on her face, but she couldn’t bring herself to meet them. Cheeks heated; a deep breath rolled through her chest. “Fine.” Thick southern accent rolling off her tongue.
“Who were those men?” The man took a step closer, looking at the bodies on the ground. His size took her off guard. He was a hefty fellow. Quite tall.
“Some low-life’s, I suppose.” Dusting off her pants, a calloused hand appeared in her vision, waiting to take hers.
“Arthur Morgan.” Gently, her hand was placed upon his palm.
“Scarlett.”
Thick fingers gave her a light squeeze before letting go. “Wanna get a drink?” His head tilted back, exposing cobalt eyes. “Calm your nerves a bit.”
She held his gaze for a moment before sighing. “Alright.” She murmured, walking past him. Her hands started pressing down the orange curls that hung above her shoulders.
After what had happened, Scarlett didn’t even wanna know how crazy her hair looked out from beneath the black cowboy hat that sat on top of her head.
Leading the way, they were only a couple buildings down from the saloon. The music filled her ears before she reached the steps. Arthur was almost forgotten about until he spoke as they moved through the doors. “What’s your poison?”
“I don’t drink.” Came out of her mouth immediately. She could tell that it took Arthur aback, considering he stopped in his tracks and openly stared at her for a good moment.
“Alright.” He spoke so softly she almost couldn’t hear him.
Her forest eyes lingered on him for a moment. He almost puzzled her. He saved her from a couple nasty men and then invited her to the saloon. The young woman stepped over to a small table by a window and took a seat, her back against the wall. Arthur was at the bar, speaking with the bartender about something. He looked different than most of the men in Valentine. He was a bit on the rougher side, but didn’t look like an alcoholic or that he would start suddenly shootin’ up the damn place. The pistol on his hip was very well taken care of, just like the boots that cracked on the hard wood floor as he found his way over to her. She knows she’s seen him somewhere before. The man came baring two plates, both on one arm, and two glasses in the other hand.
A glass of water was placed in front of her as well as a plate of steaming hot food. Scarlett’s stomach dropped. It was lamb, surrounded by roasted vegetables. It looked delicious. In front of the man was the same thing, but with chicken instead.
Brows creased, her fingers twiddled in her lap underneath the table. “Mr. Morgan.” Came out quietly.
His brows lifted as he met her eyes.
“Do you like lamb?”
“Well, yes.” His brow resembled hers. “Why”? Came his southern drawl.
“Would.. you care to switch?”
Arthur’s head tilted up as he picked up his glass of.. beer, Scarlett assumed. “You don’t?”
A slight shake of her head made her curls become visible in her peripheral vision as the last bit of sunlight poured through the window onto them. “It’s not that I don’t like it. Red meat and dairy make me sick.”
A deep rumble came from Arthur’s chest as his swiftly switched the plates. “You mean it messes with you? Or really makes you sick?”
“I get sick, sick.” She murmured, picking up her fork. She hated talking about it because of how embarrassed she was. “My stomach starts hurtin’ real bad, I get hives and fever, and the skin on my face starts burnin’ like nothin’ else.”
He hummed before swallowing his bite. “You must eat a lot of chicken then, huh?”
Small shoulder’s gave a half shrug. “I go between chicken and fish. Can’t stand any type of pork, but I do eat a lot of veggies and fruits.”
Arthur replied with a shake of his head before he shoveled more of his meal into his mouth.
It didn’t take long for them to finish their meals. The piano had heated up in the background while they giggled at each other’s silly remarks. Mostly about the people around them. Arthur stood from his chair with a slight groan and stuck his hand out. “Come dance with me.”
Eyes widening, Scarlett let out a soft chuckle before shaking her head. “No, thank you, Mr. Morgan. I’m alright.”
Arthur’s weight shifted to one hip and a brow rose. “Come on now, Miss Scarlett.” A smile spread over her lips before she stood up, laying her hand in Arthur’s.
If she had to take a guess, Scarlett would say that they danced for about half an hour, getting split up into different partners before finding each other once again at the end of the song. The room was filled with laughter and the clinking of beer and whiskey glasses cracking against each other. Sweat beaded on her brow as the two made their way through the small crowd to the door. Stepping out, Arthur pulled a couple cigarettes out of his satchel, handing one to the woman and lighting it for her.
Water trickled down from in front of the hooded porch. It was only sprinkling, but it made Scarlett’s stomach sink. They moved to the side to let drunken men stagger out of the saloon into the street, hollerin’ and laughin’.
“Got a horse?” His voice took her by surprise in the different setting. Almost felt like butterflies had made an appearance in her stomach, but those were quickly pushed away.
Scarlett nodded, gesturing to Veleno who stood a few feet to the right of them. She was a beautiful black mustang. Small, but fast. Scarlett had a deep connection with her from the moment she found up on the mountain.
“Where ya stayin’?”
The young woman stayed silent for a moment, blowing smoke out to the opposite side of her. “Somewhere.” She murmured. It was a good question, but she just didn’t have an answer to it considering she didn’t know either.
“Hotel? Or you got a house?”
“Why do you wanna know so bad, Mr. Morgan?” She softly inquired back.
“Wanna make sure you’re safe.” He mumbled, dropping what was left of his cigarette and letting the bottom of his boot twist it into the wood beneath them.
Her hand waved in front of her before returning to her hip. “Oh, I’m fine, Mr. Morgan.”
“Arthur.” He turned slightly, eyeing her face.
She merely hummed in response, repeating Arthur’s action with her boot.
“Let me buy you a room for the night.” His hands found his buckle again, pushing his shoulders forward a tad.
A laugh forced its way out of her, cheeks reddening. “What kinda gal to you take me for?” Her eyes stayed on the dirt in front of the saloon, watching as horses pass by.
His brow furrowed, causing deep wrinkles to form just below the crease of his hat. “Now, you know that ain’t what I meant.” His head turned as he made a quick look around before stepping closer. “Coming from someone who doesn’t always feel like going back, there’s sure a lot of campin’ stuff on the back of that horse right there.” His head dipped in closer, causing the red tint on her cheeks to darken. “There’s some dark clouds that’ll be here for mornin’, and you and that horse don’t need to be caught out in it.” His voice was quiet, but almost pleading.
The young woman stayed quiet for a moment. No way in hell, was he paying for a room for her. Voice a bit snappier, it stayed the same level as his. “I. Am. Fine.”
A hefty sigh left his chest, before he turned back to the dirt road. “Fine.”
Scarlett stole a glance at him, looking up at his jaw. Looking down at her black boots, she sighed as well. “Well, thank you, Mr. Morgan, for dinner, and before that.” As she stepped down into the dirt and up to the horse who had been eagerly awaiting her return, she hollered over her shoulder. “See you around, Mr. Morgan.”
Climbing up into the saddle, her eyes darted to the man still watching. Tipping his hat, she faintly heard a, “See ya ‘round, Miss Scarlett.”, before Veleno swiftly trotted off down the road.