GunmanxGhost

Abigail couldn’t help but laugh at that comment about not washing. They were all a bit on the grimey side, but there was the constant fear of one Miss Susan Grimshaw to make sure none of the gang let themselves stink to high heaven. “Don’t know which’d be scarier t’be honest; them wolves or our Miss Grimshaw.”

She only dared mutter that tough, lookin’ around for Susan in case the woman’s infamous hearin’ caught her out. Taking another swig, she watched fire for a second and then looked at Arthur; he was one o’ the only fellers she rightly trusted in the gang ‘sides from John on a good day. “I do love that dang fool, but sometimes I wished Jack weren’t his.”

It was a guilty thought and one she tried to recover from fast. “Not now ‘o course, but all that time he left us alone and went off doin’ his own thing away from the gang. Those times were lonely. I thought it would’a been better if one of y’all were his father instead.”

“Oh I don’t think those wolves would stand a chance against our Miss Grimshaw.” He was about to elaborate on how scary she was, but quickly hushed down out of fear of her overhearing, and cleared his throat, taking another swig. Perhaps it would be wise to quiet down a bit for now. And so he did, staying silent until Abigail spoke again.

Her words worried him, and surprised him at once, and he wondered if she really meant that, and if she had felt that way for long. Perhaps she had..perhaps it all began back when she had Jack. It musta been so tough for her, with a baby, without John.

He felt a bit bad for John now, hearing her say those words. Arthur fell quiet, but only for a moment or so, not wanting her to feel bad about telling him about this.

  John bein’ dumb? Well Abigail jus’ rolled her eyes up to heaven and let out a little laugh over the top of her beer bottle. She knew John was dumb as it came. “Reckon havin’ wolves chew him up an’ spit him out after gettin’ shot in Blackwater proves how dumb he can be …” But she still loved the dang fool. Loved the bones of him and she didn’t really know why.

But would he ever pull outta this gang an’ just be a family with her and Jack? There was a part of Abigail that was yearning for that an’ scared of it in the same breath; she’d settled in nice with the gang and wasn’t familiar with livin’ outside it anymore.

“Can I tell ya somethin’ Arthur?” Maybe he was drunk, but she was fairly tipsy herself an’ there was a certain liberty of tongue and thoughts that came with that.

“Yeah he may be buy who am I to talk? I ain’t much better myself.” He managed a small smile, happy to joke about his own lack of smarts, especially as she was already laughing. 

“Yeah well...he got pretty lucky. Guess the wolves didn’t think he was tasty enough. Good thing after all he don’t shower often.” He smiled again, joking offcurse. Then again, none of them were any more clean. But their John sure could use some shampoo. He wasn’t sure if he had ever used that stuff though.

As she wanted to share something, his train of thought was thankfully stopped.

  She didn’t know if they’d ever be a happy little family o’ three. Any time she tried to push the matter with John he found somethin’ else to run off and do. It ain’t like she’d planned on having a kid, but Jack was here and she wouldn’t change him for the world.

To think of her son all grown up and with a life worth livin’ - an honest life. No need for running from the law, or scrapin’ to get by from camp to camp. That was all Abigail wanted for him. “I wish ya could make John see that far ahead.”

“It ain’t for me Arthur, hell I don’t mind if Marston don’t wanna settle down an’ live the good married life. I’ll get by.” A soft smile and shrug, but Abigail nodded over at Jack instead. “It’s for him. He thinks John is the bravest feller round here, save for you of course. Wants to grow up big and brave like the gunslingers in those stories he reads.” Which was the last thing she wanted really.

“Jack? A gunslinger? oh boy..you know I can’t really picture it. He never really asked me about guns, and how they work. I made this slingshot for him, and..he didn’t have much interest in it. I´ve seen him throw rocks, but that´s all.”

  Funny how they never quite had enough money or food t’go around, but give the gang a chance to celebrate and suddenly there was plenty o’ beer and whisky for all the camp.

Another swallow of the beer and she had t’smile at Arthur’s words; John gettin’ attention? They really were like blood brothers, even if Arthur had been givin’ John the short end of the stick for goin’ off all them years ago. Slappin’ his arm playfully, Abigail just flashed a smile.

“We’re all drunk ya silly man, but that don’t mean yer talkin’ nonsense Arthur, jus’ means it’s a little easier to talk with some liqour.” And god how fellers liked to give away their deepest, darkest secrets when they were pissed. But this wasn’t about things like that. Fixing him with her best attempt at a serious look, Abigail turned more towards Arthur. “- now I ain’t gonna pretend I’m the smartest person in this here camp, but I know when someone’s lying. Yain’t gonna tell me yer jealous of Marston an’ his scrappin’ with wolves, now are ya?”

Ah boy. How was he going to get outta this one?

He downed the rest of his bottle, and tried to plot his way out of this mess. He couldn’t tell Abigail he’d fancied her back then, when she and John hooked up. If he did John would surely kill him. And then the rest of the whole gang would mess with him for it. 

What if arthur built that house with the others instead of john?

Tonight was a good night; they got Sean back an’ the camp seemed a lot happier than it had in ages. Maybe it was jus’ something about that silly mick that lifted their moods, but Abigail hadn’t smiled this much in ages.

Maybe the beer and whisky might’a had somethin’ to do with it too.

Sittin’ on the log beside Arthur, she watched as Sean acted out his escape for the fifth time, each time it got more and more wild and less and less real. But it was funny to watch Arthur rollin’ his eyes.

Until one by one everyone either got too tired or drunk to carry on or jus’ fell asleep where they sat. But Abigail stayed awake, sitting by the dying campfire with the one decent feller in the camp.

‘guess … I was jealous. Of John.’ Lookin’ over her shoulder t’make sure Jack was still curled up asleep beneath her coat in their tent, Abigail smirked and looked back to Arthur. She took a swallow of her beer before a small laugh escaped her.

“- an’ why would ya be jealous of that dang fool, huh? Reckon it ain’t for the want o’ his new scars.”

What had he just said? Jealous? Wasn’t that a tad much? He regretted it, and he felt awful, after all he had kept it to himself for so long.  What would she say, if he said the whole truth? That he had liked her too just like John? Though since Jack came he buried the fact and called it dead. 

“Oh you know. Just..bein foolish. I don’t know why..you know..John ain’t my real brother but it still feels like he is and..Guess I got jealous when he got attention an eh..” 

He scratched his beard and thought about what he was saying, and how he sounded like some big child. Jealous of his little brother. Great. You’re so big and tough. Not.

  That Mary woman really was missin’ out. Seemed simple in her head; if two folks loved each other, then let ‘em be together. Course she wasn’t a fool - Abigail knew that only ever worked if ya were one of them normal, lower folk. All them upper-class rich people made it complicated with their classes and status.

Funny then how it was always them rich fellers who came knockin’ on the brothel door the most.

“I never did think that kinda thing was for me neither if I’m bein’ honest, Arthur. Used t’be a lot easier to take feller’s money and not have to deal with ‘em the next morning.” A glance over to where Jack was trying to get John to play wit him and she rolled her eyes. “I guess the jury’s still out on whether that was right or wrong.”

Arthur gave a little smile as he rested his eyes on the flickering fire. He used to see things differently about his future. But for some reason, picturing himself, with someone felt weird, empty in a way. So maybe that was why he didnt feel like fighting for it any more.

      He wasn’t sure how this became HIS problem, but he was currently on the porch of his caravan. Trelawny had his suspicions (rather informed ones, considering he had watched him stumble wander up toward his temporary home) that this wouldn’t be a SOBER visit, and that was currently being proven right.

   “Well,” he started, a notable strain to his voice as Arthur’s weight was shifted more onto him after he’d offered to help him up, “there’s no SHAME in improving one’s living quarters but I will be sure to tell the person I am renting from that you APPROVE of their choices. How about we sit you down for a few minutes?”

“Yeah tell em..s’ real nice. And no it’ ain’t no shame at all. As a matter o’ fact..we should have these caravans for the people back in the camp. I’m gonna suggest it to Dutch. We need caravans for everyone.”  

He slid down slowly and with a little bounce he was seated on the porch. He the admired the sturdy little porch he was sitting on, despite its wears and tears it was..the cutest damn porch ever. 

  ✖️ || Gavin growled out loud when he got shoven back. This guy’s nerves are really getting on his own and Gavin honeslty thought he had reached the top of it. When the cowboy turned back around towards his horse, Gavin took his chance to grab a little rock from the ground.

“Hey! Don’t ya turn your back to me, jackass!” He yelled out before throwing it at him, letting it hit his head.

“Just to make clear, ya don’t wanna mess with me either! Kapeesh!!??” Gavin added, standing strong on his feet while he looked at the other with a pissed off expression.

“Last time, cowboy! Ya are coming with me!” || 

The stone hit him in the head, and Arthur froze on the way up on his steed. Really now? He looked over at the man, and quirked a small smile, and slid back down. He checked his head for any blood and crossed his arms defiantly. “Oh so..I’m coming with you, huh? What chu gonna do if I say no? Throw more rocks?”

Send a ❤️ to kiss my muse. Send a 💙 for my muse to kiss yours.

Shipping

Only after we both have plotted such a ship together. Flirting does not mean we ship. It must be an agreement between the muns. :)

Send 😍 for your muse to confess their attraction to mine