"Anytime, Cowgirl." : Arthur Morgan X OC

Chapter 18

Jane awoke with a gasp.

The cure.

A panic spread throughout her body. Her breath was ragged, her eyes wide open.

Carefully pulling back her quilt, she tip-toed to her door. The floor creaked beneath her, which made her wince.

When she had changed earlier that day, she had left the cure in her pocket. She didn't know what they had done with the clothes, but she hoped that they were still there.

Carefully opening the door, she poked her head out.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" There was a guard right next to her door. "Get back in there."

"Shit," she mumbled, and she sulked back to her bed. She could hear a lock being put on the door.

Could she talk to Mr. Bronte and get it back? He seemed sensible enough.

The cold room made her feel as if she were in a prison. She basically was, though. How she longed to grab Jack and run back to the gang. That guaranteed a shot in her head, though.

And Arthur. She wanted so bad to go back to how they were when they were first were sweet on each other. Everything seemed perfect then.

If only he told her where he was going all the time. If only he hadn't sprung this proposal on her. If only he hadn't gotten TB.

Eventually, she worries exhausted her, and she fell back asleep.

~~~~

"Auntie Jane, how long are we going to be here?" Jack asked, picking at his oatmeal.

"I don't know, Jack. Hopefully not long."

"I want my mamma," He said sadly.

Jane squeezed her eyes shut, then placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know, I know. We'll see everyone soon, okay?"

Then, Mr. Bronte walked in. "Ah, good morning, you two. Sleep well?"

"I suppose so."

Jack put his spoon down. "Why was there a man with a gun outside my room?"

He just chuckled. "Just to keep you safe. Now," he said, reading a note. "I've got a meeting today with one of my business partners, which I should be in right now. I trust you two will behave yourselves?"

The pair nodded, not quite sure what else to say.

"Good. Don't worry, you'll be monitored during your whole stay here."

He left as quick as he came, leaving Jack and Jane to eat their oatmeal. The room was quiet, with just the sounds of their spoon scraping the bowl. Jane had never been a big fan of oatmeal, but it was better than nothing.

"I want to go home," Jack said, a sad look in his eyes.

It felt as if her heart was being crushed by Mr. Bronte's fist. "Me too. But we'll be home soon, okay? Your mamma and pa will throw a big party for you, and everything will be alright."

"Okay, Auntie Jane."

Then Jane remember something.

"Oh, shit!" She said to herself. The cure.

She bounded out of the room. "Jack, stay there!"