𝘊𝘖𝘕 𝘖𝘍 𝘙𝘌𝘝𝘌𝘕𝘎𝘌 | ᴘʀᴇ ʀᴅʀ2

Chapter Six

The ride back to camp was quiet, with Arthur and Rosalie trotting side by side. Unlike before, Arthur stayed close to her, his eyes scanning their surroundings for any potential threats from the O'Driscolls. Rosalie was not as attentive to the greenery around her. She held a vacant look in her eyes as they traveled, the far away, glazed-over expression she wore not weaning even as she dismounted Blitz and hitched him to a nearby tree once they arrived back at their campsite.

Arthur watched her wearily as she walked away from the horse, her father's hat clutched to her chest. Rosalie didn't bother walking over to the waterfront to get cleaned, or to her tent to find a change of clothes. Instead, she dropped to the ground in front of the firepit, leaning against a log as she stared into the coals, remnants of the morning fire.

Arthur rubbed a hand against his face with a deep sigh. He patted his horse's neck, before walking over to the firepit and setting up a few stray twigs to make the beginnings of a fire. He didn't say anything to her as he pulled a match from his pocket and struck it, holding it under the dried moss as it began to smoke.

Rosalie watched him quietly. He kneeled before the fire, watching it from underneath the brim of his hat as he slowly added larger sticks as the fire grew.

Rosalie was still covered in blood. Her clothes were dried, but they reeked of iron, the black material of her button-up covered in the O'Driscoll's blood and stiff. Her hands were splattered with red, and her neck and bottom half of her face were covered in it as well. She looked wild, her blonde curls frizzy.

Arthur cast her a sideways glance. Rosalie met his eyes but didn't say anything, her expression blank.

He frowned, eyes dragging over her dirty appearance. "Ain't you gonna clean up?"

Rosalie blanched, her blank features contorting into frustration at his question. "I'm sorry?"

Arthur continued, not seeing anything wrong with his response. "Well, you're covered in O'Driscoll blood. You gonna just sit there in it?"

"Why, you care if I sit here in it?" Rosalie snapped back. "Willing to talk to me of your own accord now, huh? Or you just feel sorry for me?"

Arthur looked at her in confusion, frustration mixing in with the furrow of his brows. He was starting to get defensive from her tone. "Now what's that 'posse to mean?"

Rosalie scoffed and got to her feet, her father's hat clutched in one hand as she curled the other into a fist. She glared down at him with her jaw set. "You've been ignoring me ever since I stole that damn wagon! It's like–like you're mad at me for doing it! Like you're mad at me for showing you up!"

The adrenaline from the fight with the O'Driscolls coursed through her. She felt like she could run a marathon, or tackle a man twice her size from that alone, but now Arthur was pushing her buttons. Rosalie felt like she was being attacked from all sides. Maybe she was letting her temper get away from her, and maybe she would regret it later, but Arthur was being plain stupid. There was no way he was so dense! Had he mentally checked out over the last week?

Arthur sputtered as he got to his feet, shocked and infuriated at her accusation. "Who the hell do you think ya' are accusing me of that? You think I'm jealous? Of you?!"

Rosalie's eyes flashed with defiance as she met his gaze. "I don't know what I'm supposed to think. When you came to me that morning we stole the wagon and brought me coffee, I thought maybe we could be friends... but after I pulled that stunt, you completely changed. You act as though I'm not even here! Or that it's the worst thing to be near me! I know I haven't been here long, but you don't have to be mean!"

Rosalie huffed and took a menacing step forward, pointing at him. Arthur took a step back in surprise at how angry she was, the nice girl Rosalie had been playing disappearing in an instant.