When Dutch Van Der Linde, Micah Bell and Arthur Morgan stumble across Violet Adler after a crisis that robbed her of the last family she had-her dearest brother, Jake Adler, and beloved sister-in-law, Sadie-she's offered a home. A temporary one, unt...
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"There she is, comin' in nice and slow," Arthur murmured.
A sizable elk was coming into view, while Arthur and I crouched by a log. Big, beautiful creature, too busy grazing at grass to notice either of us lying in wait.
Cumberland Forest was a home to predator and prey alike. It was largely uncorrupted by civilization, which was perhaps why I was reveling in it enough to dismiss the anxiety of potentially facing down a snarling wolf again. At least animals were predictable. People, as I'd seen in the most vicious manner possible at my brother's cabin, were something greater to fear.
The man at my side was turning out to be an exception. I knew others feared him, as they well should, but he had a code of his own, as gray as it occasionally was. He could be polishing each and every one of his guns right before my eyes and I believe I'd be content to stand there, unarmed, without a second thought creeping in.
That quick trust, my mind nagged. That's what got you into the arms of Benjamin Braithwaite. Silly of you to never learn.
No, that logic didn't matter here. Benjamin was a lover, while Arthur is...an acquaintance. A friend, possibly. It might still be foolish to indulge friendships in the gang when I was still pondering my future, but I needed some source of sanity for the time being.
"Would you like to do the honors?" I whispered in Arthur's ear. I'd never seen the man handle a weapon that wasn't audible for miles.
"Lettin' me steal your shine?"
"Oh, that's not possible."
He chortled. "Look, I, uh, ain't much of a shot with this thing."
"I can show you," I offered. I liked the idea of being able to teach him something, when he seemed so well-versed in every other aspect of the outdoors. "Get your bow ready, gunslinger."
"Yes, ma'am." He removed it from his shoulder sling and raised it. "Tell me how you'd like me."
My face flushed. Violet, you obscene woman, just direct the man's aim and dash those cumbersome thoughts.
"Nock the arrow," I murmured, relieved that he wasn't currently looking at my blushing face. "Keep your eyes on the elk, head straight up."
He was leaning a little too much into the bow, so my hands came up to his shoulders gently to guide him. His frame tensed and I lifted my hands away, instantly apologetic.
"Sorry, Arthur, I shouldn't've–"
"No, no," he mumbled, like he was embarrassed. "Just caught me by surprise, is all. You, uh, do what you need to. I wanna get this right."
Propelled by his permission, I put my hands right back on his shoulders. They were strong and firm, just through the fabric of his shirt. Lord knew what they felt–or looked–like without such an obstruction. But that was entirely insignificant to the matter at hand.
