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

chapter 10; dangerous girl

"Don't you go and do anythin' stupid for pride, you hear me girl?" he cautioned you, a pressing look in his stormy blue orbs. "If you get into trouble, you let me know for gods sake. Shoot your gun, anything – I'll come help you." The gunslinger was fretting so much over you.

"I think I'll be fine... all I'm doing is playing a part." You whispered, blowing him a kiss either way. "Now get gone, go join the others." You ushered, clapping your hand across Phantom's hind quarters as the horse raced off across the deserted landscape to join the other horses on the secluded ridge.

Drawing in a deep breath of the brisk air around you – your feet carried you further down the track, past where the boys' where hidden and closer towards your stage for the night.

The quiet rumbling of the carriage wheels on the track could be heard, as you laid yourself down somewhat awkwardly in the grass – and start to cry to yourself quiet at first – as if you were rehearsing.

Hearing the carriage approaching, and seeing the faint lights of the lamps hanging from the side of it – you began to wail loudly, really laying it on convincingly thick. Behind the loud sounds of carriage's movement, you could hear some confused mumbling from the driver.

Moments later, the carriage was merely inches away from you and the driver had slowed – spotted you laid down in the long grass.

"Miss? Miss!" the driver gasped, "Oh gosh, it must'a been you I heard makin' them sounds, are you okay?" the driver clambered down from his seat to reach you in the grass.

Already the carriage door was open, and a red faced and portly man (clearly a fan of tasteful whiskies and nice food) was leaning out of it looking decidedly angered that his carriage was halted.

"Mr Jules, man!" the southern man barked at the driver who was knelt beside you, "What the devil is going on here?" he snarled, looking at you with pure contempt – despite the tears rolling down your cheek.

In the distance, your three audience members surveyed through their binoculars at what you had succeeded already.

"Jesus, Arthur – I'm sorry I doubted your girl." Sean called across to Arthur, who looked smug as anything hearing MacGuire's apology.

"Yeah, she's something else entirely. Much more past them books and pretty dresses." Arthur responded, his hands resting in a relaxed fashion on top of one another, propped on the horn of the western saddle. Sean started sniggering again then.

"Oh aye, much more past them dresses... and you get to see, you lucky bastard." Sean's tone was highly seedy, and Arthur then shot him a telling look that signalled the young Irish lad was overstepping the mark.

"Can you just concentrate for five seconds, please?" John scolded in a frustrated manner, he felt at times when Sean came along on jobs – it would be more useful to bring young Jack instead.

-

Whilst this had been going on, you were successful wailing your story at the victims succumbing to your dramatics.

"I moved over here for a new start – but as soon as I get over here I've had nothing but trouble – nearly beaten, my horse bolts on me – and now I'm stranded out here with no one to help me." You cried loudly, allowing your chest to heave madly with the raw emotion. Your hands reached up and grabbed the jacket of the driver.

"Please sir! You have to help me!" you screamed, and by this time – Mr Fox had well and truly had enough of this. The man had no compassion it seemed, he just wanted to get himself and his plump wife to the nearest fine-establishment – and wasn't stopping for any soul.