Playing Dangerous ? ||RDR2 // Arthur Morgan X Reader||

chapter 5; tomorrow never came

"Could you take me down to the river, papa? I wanna make something nice for momma." Jack cheeped earnestly, tugging at John's shirt sleeve.

Your heart physically ached at the image of John, proceeding to walk off, Jack forcefully having to unlatch his grip.

"I'm a little busy right now Jack, perhaps uncle Arthur might take ya' later?" John called back over his shoulder, as the three men mounted their horses to head off to their usual follies.

Horses still chewing the last few mouthfuls of grass, they were turned quickly and encouraged into a gentle trot – the shrinking figures of the three outlaws disappearing down the beaten track through the thick of the forest perimeter.

Knife sliding through a carrot and hitting the chopping board with a wooden thunk, you watched Jack stood in the middle of the camp, head hung as he kicked a stone about absently. That poor boy... how could Marston look the little lad in the eye and not feel an ounce of responsibility? If Jack didn't start getting the attention he needed from his father, he could seriously go the wrong way. You hoped that never happened.

"Damn..." you sighed, falling defeat to your thoughts as you set the thick knife down, and gathering handfuls of the pallid green skirts of your simple linen dress, you walked with purpose over to Abigail, who sat herself on a stool by the stew pot, sewing a piece of Jack's clothing that he'd somehow trashed.

"Abigail," you started, watching as the tired-eyed woman gazed up with a soft expectant look about her gaze.

"Yes, (name)?" she said slowly with a half smile, setting her work down, with a beaten sigh. "Sorry... I'm just tired. Tired of seeing John be like this with his son..." she tailed off, a frown becoming present on her brow. You saw fit to quickly step in, to save her brewing over the anger that was gathering.

"It was actually about that, Abigail." You started earnestly, a keen smile on your petal-pink lips. "I was going to ask if you wouldn't mind finishing chopping the vegetables? If it's alright with you... I was going to take Jack down to the river?"

The hardened look on Abigail's face immediately withdrew, and you had to secretly breathe a sigh of relief. She seemed genuinely elated by your suggestion.

"Oh (name)," she began with a level of wobbling glee on her tone, getting up and taking your hands within her own, "Jack would so love that. He's thought the world of you ever since you came to us."

Abigail's words warmed you, Jack was a sweet kid – and you were sure he'd take to just about anyone, but to hear it still was incredibly wholesome.

"He's such a sweet boy. He deserves the quality one-to-one time he needs." You said, patting Abigail's worn and worked hands. "I'll go right now, and have him back before lunch."

Floating on a cloud of purpose, you strode over to Jack's bent over and languished frame, laying your hand on his narrow little shoulder. The boy's eyes immediately sparkled when he set eyes on you.

"Hey (name)!" he piped up, and you were glad to see his father's dismissal hadn't totally disconcerted him. "Can you take me down to the river?" he asked hopefully, but there was a hesitant look on his face like he was partially expecting another knock-back.

"Course I can, little man." You responded, ruffling his dark brown hair, his excited smile was a real gem to behold. "Me and you will head down there now."

Taking his tiny hand in your own, the pair of you wandered across the grassy covered ground of the camp.

Since your ride out with Arthur, everyone had rather subconsciously just agree Boxer was your assigned horse. Your leg still not at it's best, you knew you'd have to keep it to a gentle plod and not a pace faster.