No Time To Die- ARTHURMORGAN x O/C

part 44- Forget and Forgive

              The sun dips low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the rugged terrain as Claudia and Arthur ride into camp. Silence envelopes them, the kind that holds a thousand unspoken words. Claudia unstraps Nyrah and rummages through her gear until she found a small pouch of sugar cubes. The mare snorts and nickers softly, nudging Claudia's hand. She can't help but smile as she offersthe cubes, the world suddenly feeling just a bit lighter as Nyrah munches eagerly.
Arthur dismounts, his expression unreadable as he makes his way over to Reverend Swanson, who sits near Arthur's cot. She watches them for a moment, the tension in Arthur's shoulders almost palpable until Dutch comes along and takes Arthur away to have a chat.
Claudia looks around seeing John sitting by himself on the edge of camp watching his son Jack play. The boy lost in his own world, a kingdom of kings and queens using his wild imagination. Claudia admires the scene before her: John, finally stepping up and being a father makes her heart swell, knowing that Jack has a father figure to go to.
"Hey, John," Claudia calls, approaching him with a hint of caution.
"Claudia," John replies, looking up, "You good?"
"I'm fine. Just wanted to check in," she says as she settles down on the ground next to him, "I've heard about Abigail... she's worried about staying with the gang."
John sighed, his expression serious, "Can't blame her. It's getting more dangerous by the day, especially for Jack."
Claudia glances towards Jack, her heart aching at the thought of him getting caught in the chaos.
"What will you do if the gang falls apart?" she asks cautiously.
John's gaze shifts to the campfire for a moment, as if the flames might hold the answers. He turns back to her, eyes steady but troubling, "I'll figure it out. We always do. What about you?"
She stutters slightly as her own thoughts race, "I don't know, I feel like there is nothing left for me in this world. I guess I will have to wait and see."

The evening wears on, the sounds of the small secretive chatters, the fire cracking and the tension between different camp members. Arthur has gone off with Dutch, Charles and someone named Eagle Flies, to collect his horses back from the army. The night falls and darkness blanketing the camp, Claudia feels the familiar sense of restlessness gnawing at her. Sleep never comes easily, not unless Arthur is right next to her, or liquor is flowing freely through her veins. Unable to quell her racing mind, Claudia slips back to her horse, saddling Nyrah. The mare whines softly, as if sensing her rider's turmoil. Claudia mounts and rides into the night, the cool air brushing against her skin, reminding her to keep her wits about.
Passing through the winding paths of the swamps, she makes her way to the outskirts of Saint Denis, the lights of the city twinkling like stars falling from the sky. The bustling noise of the saloon reaches her ears, drawing her in. She dismounts and ties Nyrah to a post before pushing through the swinging doors. The interior is alive with chatter and laughter, a chaotic symphony of patrons enjoying the night's indulgences. The bar is busy, she finds a spot right in front of the bartender, a stout man with a bushy mustache.
"Whiskey, please," Claudia orders, not bothering to hide the strain in her voice.
The bartender raises an eyebrow, "That's a bit strong for a lady, don't you think?"
Claudia narrows her eyes, irritation flaring, "Pass me the damn drink."
A man shuffles next to her, his damp clothes clinging to his frame. She turns and her heart drops as she recognises him, the last person she wants to see. Wyatt Thorn. The memories of the past floods her mind, uninviting but impossible to ignore.
"Claudia," he greets her with a small, remorseful smile, eyes bloodshot and full of an untold history.
"What are you doing here, Wyatt?" Her tone is sharp, but she feels a strange surge of empathy amidst her anger.
"I'm sorry for what happened before, I'm not going to do anything" he says his voice low, raising his hands up jokingly.
"Fine. Let's pretend it's in the past, then," she replies curtly, her fingers tapping anxiously against the bar.
Wyatt takes a deep breath, "My brother got caught up in trouble with the O'Discools. Had debts with them as he used them as allies to attack another wealthy man from Blackwater. Wyatts dead now. All the weight has fallen on me, I guess you could call that karma for what we did to you."
The moment is heavy with shared pain, and without thinking, Claudia reaches into her pocket and pulls out the wad of cash she stashed away from her last job ages ago, "Here, take this. It's not much, but it can help."
His eyes widen by her generosity, "I can't take this. Not after everything... I don't deserve it."
"Just take it," she insists, pushing the money toward him, "You need it more than I do."
He hesitates but ultimately accepts the cash, a glimmer of gratitude in his eyes, "Thank you. I really appreciate it."
As their conversation flows, the tension between them begins to dissolve. He pours her a drink with the money,  she notices how his hands tremble slightly. She thinks to herself, he must of went down the wrong route.
Time slips through their fingers like sand, and the early morning light begins to filter through the saloon's windows. Claudia and Wyatt find themselves deep in conversation, laughter mingling with the clinking of glasses. She shares stories of her adventures in the gang, memories of camaraderie and chaos, all while digging through her own buried issues. The drinks dying out the past between them. 
"Seems like you've got a real fire in you, Claudia," Wyatt says, admiration lacing his tone, "Not too many women would stand up to the likes of me."
She laughs softly, a sound like tinkling glass, "Look, you may have put me through hell, but I can't pretend that there isn't a spark of humanity in you. Your brothers and yourself tortured me and ruined my life but we have got to forgive to move on."
Wyatt nods, his expression grim, "I've made a lot of mistakes. Maybe this is my chance to start doing right."
Claudia glances at the clock on the wall, "I should head back. The gang will worry if I don't return."
"Thank you for staying here tonight, Claudia," he says, sincerity etching on his face, "You've given me hope."
"Just... take care of yourself, Wyatt," she replies, feeling a strange sense of closure. She stands and makes her way out trying to walk in a straight line as the drinks go to her head, the heaviness of their conversation lingering with her, a weight that felt strangely liberating.
Stepping out into the crisp morning air, Claudia takes a deep breath, the sounds of the city waking around her. She slowly mounts Nyrah, her heartbeat steadying as she navigates through the darken streets back to camp.