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The dead weight of tired bones made Arthur’s dismount from his horse unhurried and less than graceful. A strained grunt grumbled out of the depths of his chest when the bottoms of his boots hit the hard earth beneath him. The poor circulation in his legs from being seated in his saddle for so long had caused his legs to go weak and stiff -- causing him to stand in place for a few moments to allow the proper blood flow to return to his lower half.
Two days of straight traveling only to find a dead end lead had worn Arthur out. He should’ve known better than to carry himself clear to the opposite side of the state without retrieving more intel on this alleged “business opportunity” that Uncle had halfway heard from a fellow drunk bar patron in Valentine. That, Arthur realized, had been his main mistake. Taking any kind of lead from Uncle was usually a bad idea, and Arthur knew he really had only done it to himself.
It had been a long two days there, and an even longer two days back. Arthur hadn’t been successful in sleeping easy while away from camp. With Pinkertons breathing down the gang’s neck and O’Driscolls seemingly stationed everywhere -- Arthur hadn’t been able to find any real kind of a sense of security in or outside of camp. Even with that, he did somehow manage to rest somewhat better when he was in camp. The cowboy was exhausted, and he was looking forward to even a halfway decent night of sleep.
His horse whistled out of her nose when Arthur’s hand came to the side of her strong neck to give her a few grateful pats for her patience and service over the last couple of days. Arthur had worked her hard, and she was very deserving of a few good days of rest. His free hand reached into his satchel, rummaging around until his fingertips located and identified the smooth skin of the crisp red apple that he had purchased earlier that day.
“Here ya go, girl. You did good today.” He praised as he offered the apple to her with the palm of his hand.
Her ear that was closest to him flickered in response, and the apple was taken graciously and without hesitation. He bid her goodnight before stalking off from the hitching post. Arthur had known that he’d be trotting into camp late, and that mostly everybody would be off in dreamland by the time he arrived. The silence and solace of a shut down base relieved some of the pressure in his chest. His tent was within 20 feet as he traversed further into camp. All he wanted was to slip into his cot, pull you in close, and-
“Arthur!” A whispering shriek caught his attention.
Arthur’s shuffling feet came to a stop. He wasn’t sure where the voice came from, but he knew the voice belonged to John. He blindly glanced around for his halfway adopted brother, wondering where the hell he was.
“Marston?” Arthur asked in a way that was more of a request for John to reveal himself.
John obliged, appearing from the shadows somewhere behind Arthur. Arthur figured he must’ve trudged right on by him without seeing him.
“How’d you do?” John approached, stopping once he was close enough.
Arthur scoffed, shaking his head in unsurprised disappointment.
“Fell through. Turned out to be a shit lead,” Arthur grumbled. “I knew better than to follow up on one of Uncle’s jobs.”
“Damn. Four days out and you ain’t come back with anything?” John questioned, shifting his weight to one side of his body.
John looked neutral, but Arthur could tell that John had stopped him for more than quick small talk.
“Not a damn thing. Guess it’s my own fault. I finished more fights than I started while I was gone.” Arthur hissed.
Arthur’s journey had landed him in a small town that didn’t have much more than a saloon, post office, and residential homes. He didn’t even spend a full day in the village because it quickly became clear that Uncle’s lead wasn’t worth anything. Arthur had only stopped at the saloon for a fast meal and a drink to replenish him before his journey back. He hadn’t been interested in playing a hand of poker or conversing with any of the patrons. However, he found himself in the middle of a full-blown brawl that he didn’t have anything to do with.
John chuckled with mild amusement. That was par for the course. He had been there and done that.
“Ain’t that always the way?” John joked, but he had a look in his expression that let Arthur know something was up.
“I guess,” Arthur hardly even laughed. “Whatcha need, Marston?”
John took a quick glance over camp, checking for any watching eyes or listening ears. Arthur’s curiosity peaked as he watched his partner in crime struggle to find the right words.
“Look, uh....there was an....incident while you were gone.” John said.
“An incident?” Arthur raised a brow. “What kind of incident?”
“An incident....involving [Y/N].” John went on.
Arthur’s stomach went cold. He took a step closer to John in an attempt to persuade him to go on.
“What kind of incident involving [Y/N]?” The hair on Arthur’s arms shot up in attention, and Arthur’s patience was worn thin in a flash of a second. “Spit it out, Marston.”
“Micah started harassing her the way he does.” John explained.
Arthur’s face began to run hot. Unfortunately, it was a common occurrence for Micah to get the urge to chase you around camp saying unthinkably inappropriate things that hardly had any real undercover meaning to it. Your responses the first time or two had been polite, but as time went on -- the friendliness had melted away.
You were tough, for sure. Just like everybody else in camp, you could hold your own and defend yourself just as well. Micah’s persistence was unlike anything you had ever encountered. It scared you that each attempt he tried harder. It made you paranoid that he was going to jump to drastic measures. If it weren’t for Dutch’s discipline and Arthur’s intervention each time....God only knows what sort of things Micah would’ve tried.
“What the hell did he say to her?” Arthur’s voice dropped.
“Just saying stupid shit and trying to make a pass at her and all. The same shit as always. Tried to put his hands on her,” John went on. “It just scared her to death ‘cause you weren’t here.”
Arthur’s stomach went hot this time. It churned at the thought of Micah taking advantage of Arthur’s absence in order to get to you, and it went sick with knowing that you were scared that he couldn’t be there to stop it.
Arthur was thinking about it, and he realized that all the other times he had been lucky enough to be around to put a stop to it before it got worse. Arthur was protective over you. Everybody knew it, and at this point it was a given. It was a dangerous world, and you lived an even more dangerous life. You were the best part of his world, and he did everything he could to keep you safe.
Arthur’s knuckles tingled, a tell-tale sign of his that he was ready to put them to violent use. If John hadn’t spoken again, Arthur was positive that he would’ve dragged Micah out of his tent and beat him lifeless.
“She asked me not to tell you. Normally I wouldn’t....” John sighed. “But if it was me....well, I’d wanna know.”
Arthur’s jaw clenched, hard enough to the point where he felt a painful pressure in his lower row of teeth. It hurt Arthur worse to know that you had asked John to keep it from him.
“Yeah. Thanks, John.” Arthur swallowed.
John didn’t take it personally when Arthur stalked off without another word. He knew that Arthur was on a mission now, and he didn’t blame him.
Arthur decided to deal with Micah in the morning. He didn’t see any sense in getting camp all stirred up over something that was over and done with....for now. He wanted to see you first and get a sense of how you were feeling.
Arthur had originally anticipated that you were going to be asleep due to the late hour of the night, but based on what John had just disclosed to him, he got the notion that you were going to be wide awake.
And he was proven right when he entered your shared tent.
He spotted you sitting at the table on the edge of your bed area. You were still in your clothes from earlier in the day, an obvious sign that you had no plans of going to bed. You hadn’t heard him enter, which granted him the opportunity to watch you work on whatever you were crafting.
“Hey, darlin’. What’re you still doin’ up?” Arthur asked, but he already knew part of the answer.
You turned from the makeshift work table to look at the rugged cowboy standing at the entrance behind you. A smile spread on your face which made Arthur feel even the tiniest bit better. A smile was a good sign, but he also knew that a smile could hide a lot. He noticed that you looked sluggish, and your eyes were glazed over with a certain exhaustion.
On your side, Arthur looked as handsome as ever, but he also didn’t look so hot at the same time.
He had dark circles under his lower eyelashes and a certain faint redness in the whites of his eyes that were a ringer that he hadn’t slept well on his journey. His shoulders sagged like he was carrying a massive weight on them, and his feet barely picked up off the ground as he walked.
If he was even half as tired as he looked, then you’d say that he definitely needed a good night of sleep and the next couple days off.
“I’m making a pair of mittens for Jack. He’s been asking for a new pair since Cain chewed his old pair,” You shrugged, abandoning your time-killing project to greet your man. “I was really starting to worry about you.”
It wasn’t exactly a lie. You had overheard little Jack asking Abigail for a new pair of coverings for his hands. You were more than happy to take the task for yourself, but it was also an excuse to stay up well into the night.
“Agh. It was nothin’,'' Arthur waved his hand dismissively. “Turns out that Uncle’s bullshit leads are, in fact, still bullshit.”
“I told you that one was coming.” Your smile grew wider, and even Arthur cracked an amused grin.
That was true after all. When Arthur had been packing up to head out on Uncle’s lead, he had told you all he knew about it. It sounded fishy, and you were sure to fully let Arthur know that you thought that it sounded sketchy.
“Yeah, yeah. I know, doll.” He stepped inside the tent fully,
He removed his hat from his head, and he brought a whole new meaning to the term “hat hair”. It was sticking it up every which way, and it was clear that he hadn’t taken the time to wash it on his trip away from camp. He set his hat on the chest at the end of the cot in its designated spot, a heavy sigh escaping his chest.
He didn’t want to bombard you with questions about it. Part of him didn’t want to bring it up at all since you had been so adamant about him not knowing about it. Arthur knew how Micah went out of his way to embarrass you to try to get you to give in, and Arthur didn’t want to bring any of those feelings up by asking you about it.
On the other hand, Arthur cared more about checking on how you were feeling about it. Based on your tired demeanor, it seemed that you had been a little paranoid in Arthur’s absence. He wanted to be there to comfort you, and he wasn’t sure if he could let it go without knowing if you were okay or not.
He lowered himself onto the bed with a strained groan. He removed his boots from his feet that were screaming to leave their confined space. He hadn’t taken off his boots in the four days that he had been gone, and the ache in his feet reminded him of that.
“Did you enjoy getting away for a few days though? You’ve been saying that some time away might be good.” You questioned him, sitting on your work stool that was only a few feet from where he was seated.
“It was alright. The dead end lead kinda ruined it for me. Wish you had come with me,” Arthur shrugged. “Missed you.”
“I missed you,” You returned, with a hum. “I’m glad you’re back.”
There was a certain glow that dusted over his cheeks when he looked at you. He had come to a point in his life where he didn’t like going on extended jobs without you. If he had a choice in having you by his side, then his decision was always yes.
There was always a simmering anxiety when Arthur was away from you for too long. It was the situations like Micah badgering you that made Arthur worried sick. He could tell that it had really affected you, and that it was still bugging you now.
“Come here.” He opened his arm to you as an invitation.
He watched your body come to a standing position, his heart skipping a beat as you took a couple of steps to make it to him. His hands guided your hips to set you on his lap, and his arms immediately wrapped around you in a much needed hug. He sighed into the material of your shirt, squeezing you a little tighter than usual.
He smelled of Earth and the faintest hint of cigarette smoke. A scent you were familiar with when Arthur returned from scouting out a long distance lead. It was something that was so nostalgic to you. It reminded you of a weary Arthur, but a loving Arthur that wanted nothing more than to see his favorite woman in the world.
You leaned back from the embrace, taking the time to look at your worn out lover. He looked even more exhausted when looking at him up close.
“You haven’t slept.” You pointed out, pushing a strand of his chestnut hair from his eyes.
“You ain’t either.” He returned, and you knew he had you pinned.
“I....guess you heard?” You shifted.
“Yeah. I heard.”
There was a long pause. The kind that was thick and uncomfortable. Your eyes connected for the duration of the gap, neither of you completely sure what to say.
For a moment, you were pissed at John for going against your wishes. It was one simple task.
Don’t tell Arthur.
On the other hand, you knew it was foolish to think that John would keep something like that from the man he trusted the most. If the shoe was on the other foot, then you definitely supposed that you should’ve seen that coming.
“I just didn’t want to worry you.”
“Worry me?” He asked. “Sweetheart, it worries me more that you didn’t wanna tell me.”
“You just....you get so upset, and you already have so much going on,” You kissed the space just above the tip of his ear. “I didn’t want to stress you more.”
“I get upset ‘cause Micah’s a creep,” Arthur drummed his fingers on the small of your back where your hand rested. “None of my stress comes from you.”
“John and Charles handled it,” You went on. “I didn’t want you getting all worked up over it.”
“Doesn’t matter, darlin’. If somebody tries to put their hands on you, I wanna know about it,” He argued back, but his tone was smooth and calm. “Especially when it’s Micah. Slimy bastard....”
You fiddled with a loose string on the back of Arthur’s dirt caked shirt. A nervous tick to keep you from looking him in the face.
“I don’t like it when you get hurt at my expense.” You admitted.
“You’re always worth it,” He couldn’t help but grin. “I ain’t never been shy to get a couple new scars.”
“Arthur.” You scolded, but you couldn’t help but match his smile.
There was a moment of soft laughter. It broke the tension in the air, and the sound of your giggles relaxed the tension in his shoulders.
“Honey, I’m sorry that I wasn’t here,” He swallowed. “It kills me to know that I couldn’t do anything.”
“It’s alright. Just spooked me was all.” You admitted.
The knot in Arthur’s stomach tightened. The thought alone was enough to make him feel plagued with guilt. He hadn’t realized how much of a priority it was to keep you feeling secure in a world that was far from it.
“I never want you to be scared,” He squeezed a little tighter. “Wanna do everythin’ I can to keep you safe.”
“Don’t put that pressure on yourself. It’s not your responsibility, Arthur.” You lightly dragged the side of your finger along the apple of his cheek.
“Like hell it ain’t,” He scoffed. “I can’t help but be responsible. You mean too much to me.”
There was a warmth spreading through your chest. Ironically, it was beginning to feel like this situation had scared him more than it had scared you.
“Are we going to have to settle on a ‘agree-to-disagree’ solution?” You chuckled because you knew that this conclusion was rare, and also one that Arthur wasn’t a fan of.
“I hate those.” He groaned.
“I know,” You kissed his forehead. “Let’s meet in the middle and come back to it in the morning? You need to get some sleep.”
If Arthur hadn’t been so exhausted, he would have disagreed and wanted to finish the conversation now. He never liked leaving things without a definite resolution. But truth be told, he was far too drained to spend more time on this right now.
“Alright, darlin’. Let’s go to bed.” He shifted under you, prompting you to stand from his lap so the two of you could cram into the cot as you always did.
Arthur usually complained about the stiffness of the single person, sorry excuse for a bed. It wasn’t comfortable whatsoever, and it usually offered no support to Arthur’s bones and muscles when he needed the most rest for them. It didn’t help that it wasn’t exactly designed for two people to sleep on, but Arthur would rather die of exhaustion than sleep separately.
Tonight though, the cot was the most comfortable that it had ever been. It brought the biggest relief to his body, and it forced a sigh out of him as he laid his body down for the first time in several days. Arthur always slept on the outside, keeping you pulled into his chest to allow the most room possible.
Arthur pressed a few kisses to the crown of your head, the feeling of slumber quickly beginning to wrap him as he snuck in a quick suggestion.
“Maybe in a couple weeks we can head out somewhere,” Arthur suggested, his eyelids already heavy and close to pulling him into a much needed sleep. “We could spend a few days in Saint Denis – go watch a show and take a breather.”
“That’d be nice. Do you think Dutch would be okay with that?” You questioned.
“As long as we come back with somethin’. Dutch is used to me slippin’ out quietly and comin’ back with somethin’ big,” Arthur mumbled. “We ain’t even have to tell him.”
“Mm,” You hummed, your own eyes growing weighted with sleep. “Would be nice to get away for a bit. We could go to that saloon and blow some money on poker. You liked that place, right?”
Arthur didn’t answer. His breathing had slowed to a gentle rhythm, and he was well asleep. He had fallen asleep almost as fast as he had laid down, and the intense travel fatigue finally got the best of him. You laughed to yourself, not even bothering to wake him up. The last of your worry melted away as you fell asleep within a few minutes after him.
Safe and sound with the man you loved most.