"Anytime, Cowgirl." : Arthur Morgan X OC

Chapter 10

(A/N: Sorry it's taken so long to update guys. I've been having pretty bad writer's block with this.)

As the afternoons turned into days, the days turned into weeks. Jane grew more in tune with her routine. She would wash clothes, then help Pearson with copping vegetables. At the end of the day, she and Arthur would sit, rather it be on the dock or one of their beds, and talk.

The gang was trying to play two rival families, the Grays and the Braithwaites. There was talk about some gold stashed between the two.

Arthur and some of the other boys were deputized in Rhodes, and Jane wouldn't stop teasing him about it.

She rode into Rhodes, Arthur driving the wagon next to her, with their elbows linked together.

"Man," she said, smirking slightly, "I feel a lot safer going into town with a deputy with me."

He shook his head, although it was almost indistinguishable from the constant bumping and bustling from the wagon.

"How many times do I gotta tell you it ain't funny? This was Dutch's idea- not mine." His voice was serious, but his face showed otherwise. He had a goofy grin on his face, one that he couldn't seem to get rid of when she was around. Jane was used to seeing 'all-business', solemn Arthur at camp, but as they spent more and more time together, she learned that he really did have a soft side. And she loved it.

She ran her fingers over the inside of his wrist. "I know; I'm just teasing. Don't you think it's strange that you're damning men that do the same thing we do, though?"

He hummed. "Yeah. I don't like it, but it's what Dutch thinks is best. It is a little genius, but it the cover won't last for long."

Soon enough, they arrived in Rhodes. It was a small, dusty town, but still significantly bigger than Valentine. People were scattered around, some waiting for a train, and others going about their lives.

Arthur pulled the wagon to a stop, and hopped off before offering her a hand. She landed on the ground with a hop which kicked up a little cloud of rusty dust.

"Now, I've got to go to the gunsmith across the way," he said, his hands resting on his gun belt. "Can you handle getting the supplies by yourself?"

She shoed some dust off of her skirt. "Yeah. Everything is on the list, right?"

He nodded swiftly, and turned away, heading down the street. Jane couldn't help but admire him as he meandered away. She was made aware of the butterfly feeling that never seemed to go away.

She watched him for another minute before realizing that she had a responsibility. Smoothing out wrinkled list that had been previously crinkled in her hand, she looked over the items.

It was mostly basics, like vegetables and health items, but at the bottom, in messy handwriting, a request for rum.

Probably Sean, she thought before heading into the store.

"Hello, Miss," the storekeeper greeted. He was old and looked gentle, and Jane found herself comparing him to Hosea. "What can I help you with today?"

"Hi there, sir. I have kind of a large list to cover today."

He nodded and he motioned for her to give him the list, which she did. For some reason, nerves spread throughout her as his eyes scanned the paper.

"What are you doing with all this stuff? It's enough to feed a small army."

Her fingers rung together. "It for my, um, it's for my family- actually a group of families. We're a caravan, um, a caravan from the north and we're going to... California, yeah, California for the gold. You know, with the talks for gold- it's all over in the North. Have you ever heard about the gold? My brother, he talks non-stop about it. Always blabbering about the gold." She stopped herself, and gave him a weak smile at the end of her spiel.