The following afternoon, Isabella emerged from her tent a bit in pain. She was still growing used to the fact that she needed to sleep on her left side and not her right, where her healing wound was. Al low groan sounded from her as she made her way to her coffee pot, lifting that metal pot in her hand to find it almost empty. Didn't matter, she only needed a small portion to keep her going.
Pouring that steaming liquid, she stood with another groan, lifting that tin mug to her lips, wincing when she burned the tip of her tongue.
"Fuck," She mumbled, lowering that mug making her way to her tent, stopping shortly when she noted that Arthur was not in his own. Man must have started work early, which was what he had been doing faithfully the last few days. Looking around, she noted that Charles and Javier were gone as well, the three must have been out on a job together.
Stepping back into her comforting space, she settled on the edge of her cot, sipping away at her coffee, thinking back on Arthur's words from yesterday. She'd fit in just well here, the man even welcomed her to the gang. What the hell was she doing? There was no way she could stay here, she was already too caught up in this. Too caught up in Arthur, her mind shouted. Isabella paused, swallowing her coffee. Isabella found herself thinking of him often, wondering where he was when he wasn't in camp, what he was doing. Was it from the bounty hunter within her? It had to be, there was no way she actually cared for the man.
Isabella sighed, feeling her shoulders drop, like the weight of the world rested upon them. Capturing Arthur meant a world of luxury when she brought him in, running away meant cowardice, and telling him the truth, well, that meant death. It was too much, and the slight throbbing pain in her side told her that she was in no shape to be thinking, she needed to rest. So, she did, she laid back down, staring at the canopy of her tent, until she heard a small voice call out.
"Misses Turkin?"
"Come in, young Jack." Isabella called, sitting up on her cot, a smile on her face. While some members of the gang, such as Bill and Micah, didn't take a liking to her, Jack did. As much as Charles, who spoke to her every chance he could.
"I hope I'm not bothering." Jack called, a thick novel tucked underneath his arm, Isabella smiling.
"No, of course not. Another novel?" She asked, Jack approaching her, hoping up onto her cot beside her, removing that novel from his armpit.
"Uh huh, could you read it to me? Uncle Hosea is out doing something, Ma is busy and I don't know where Pa is." Jack explained, Isabella feeling for him, her heart strings tugging. He had both his parents and sometimes both didn't take notice of him when he needed it the most. Isabella lost both her parents at a young age, and even when they were around, it was as if she hardly existed.
"I'd love to read it to you, Jack. Here, let's go outside, settle in by the fire and read." Isabella said, standing, Jack following beside her, rushing to that entryway in a flash, excited. Jack Marston always brought a smile to her face, his innocence something so pure, it cheered her up in an instant.
The pair settled in beside the main campfire, Isabella sitting on the ground, her back pressed against the trunk of an old tree, used to seat multiple gang members. Jack tucked himself on Isabella's left side, Isabella putting an arm around him, her left leg lifted, supporting that book as she flipped the cover open, reading over the title.
"King Arthur and His Knights of The Round Table." Isabella said, flipping the next page, feeling Jack snuggle in beside her, getting comfortable.
"Chapter one, The Two Swords." Isabella said, seeing a few others walk over and join the two of them. Uncle, Bill, Pearson. Even Tilly and Karen wondered over too, listening to Isabella read smoothly, her voice confident, echoing throughout that camp, drawing Dutch out of his own tent so he could listen.
Their time was cut short when the thundering of hooves sounded, Isabella pausing mid sentence, looking up with everyone else. The two that were missing, along with an unfamiliar face had arrived. Charles and Javier both dismounting, Isabella lifting an eyebrow when she spotted an Irishman on the back of Javier's horse.
"I'm back!" The man shouted, his accent thick, and slightly scratchy. Isabella definitely cringed, and those beside her laughed softly.
"That's Sean Macguire, we lost him a bit when we were up in the mountain." Tilly explained softly, Isabella watching as Dutch approached Sean, welcoming him back home.
"Hmm, remind me to keep a safe distance." Isabella said to Tilly, hearing that young girl laugh.
"He ain't all that bad, miss."
"I ain't taking any chances," Isabella told Tilly, shutting the book, getting up with Jack, who ran off to be beside his mother.
"We-ell, colour me purple, who's that lovely little lass?" Sean called, his eyes having caught hold of Isabella, who rolled her eyes back at him.
"That's her, Isabella." Javier said, looking that woman up and down, Isabella suddenly wanting to duck back into her tent, too many eyes were upon her.
"Miss Turkin, will be staying with us for a while." Dutch explained, Sean about to make his way over to Isabella, stopping shortly when more hooves sounded. Isabella released a breath, seeing that it was Arthur.
"The annoying one is back, if you ain't noticed." Arthur called, Isabella stifling a giggle, their gaze catching for a split second, while he worked on dismounting Utana. Isabella took the time to head over to Jack, and Abigail, handing him his book.
"We'll read some more a little later, promise." Isabella swore to him, seeing him give a warm little smile, nodding his head, hugging the book to his chest.
"Thank you, Isabella." Abigail said, a hand on her chest, that mother almost looking emotional. "Anything you need, Miss Roberts." Isabella said softly, a hand reaching out, being placed on her shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze before she let go and walked off.
It was then Dutch announced that a party would be thrown in Sean's arrival, the camp would be busy with celebrating their gangly brother's return.
Within a few hours, the camp was abuzz with the return of Sean, Hosea passing around crates of beer, encouraging those to come drink with him. Isabella watched from the comfort of her tent, the main campfire now crowded with Dutch Boys, all speaking in low tones, and little did she know, they spoke of her.
Isabella mingled a bit, Hosea putting a bottle beer in her hands as she spoke with Karen, and Tilly. The pair were quite fascinated with their newest girl, asking questions whenever they could. Karen, obviously, had a burning crush on the O'Driscoll boy, Kieran. Isabella giggled, watching her gaze, and Karen caught on.
"What?" Karen asked, almost looking offended.
"You like the O'Driscoll boy," Isabella said, lifting that copper colored bottle to take a sip,
watching as Karen rolled her eyes, folding her arms across her chest.
"I do not, that's like me accusing you of liking Mister Morgan," Karen shot back, and the second she said his name, Isabella's gaze had shot up and found that rugged cowboy eyeing her, causing her to quickly look away. Isabella cleared her throat, finally taking a sip of that cheap beer, the look on her face suggesting that the alcohol wasn't exactly the best.
"She ain't exactly denying it, is she?" Tilly taunted, Isabella swatting at her, "I needed a drink!" Isabella said, getting slightly defensive, causing Tilly to laugh.
"Right, Missus Turkin," Tilly said, watching Isabella take another few gulps of her beer until that liquid was gone.
After a while, Isabella went back to her tent, figuring she had no place in partying with the gang, simply gathering up an old romance novel, a bottle of aged rum, and a blanket to sit on, sneaking off into the safety of trees that surrounded the camp. She remained close, in case something topped off and her gun was needed, it was no secret now how good of a gunman she was. Isabella sighed a bit, feeling a tug in her side when she spread out that blanket, taking a seat upon it, pressing her back into the base of a tree trunk. Quickly, she opened her bottle of aged rum, gulping down as much as she could before she sealed it back off, and placed it down beside her left leg. Her book was snatched up mere seconds later, Isabella flipping to her marked page, relaxing a bit as she began to read. Of course, she could hear laughter, and deep conversations coming from all over the camp, but what really caught her attention, was the conversation she heard from the main campfire.
While the women had taken quite a shine to Isabella, the men, even those who'd kept their distance, did so in their own way.
"That Isabella, she's got a wild streak in her, you can see it." She heard Javier call, causing her to put down her book just a bit. "I'd love to see just how wild that one gets." He continued, Isabella feeling a bit of heat rise to her cheeks, and she suddenly rolled her eyes. It had to be the liquor talking, Javier had been drinking a while.
Arthur had joined that group around the campfire, a thumb hooked in his gun belt, taking his own hard swallow of whiskey, "She'd destroy you before you could blink, Javier," Arthur finally said, Charles lifting his head.
"She seems mild mannered to me," Charles called, Arthur having shook his head, looking over at that half native man.
"You didn't see her in Colter," Arthur replied, Javier scoffing, "She was afraid- On the verge of dying. Besides..I like my cat with some claws."
Isabella didn't see that Arthur had taken another swig of his whiskey, handing it off to one of the boys before he stepped away and made his way toward her, having watched where she had gone to get away.
"You got an odd way of partyin'.''He had called, announcing his presence, but Isabella had heard his footsteps before he even said a word. That bottle of liquor was to her lips again, Isabella taking small sips, until she lowered it, "Mm?" She hummed, turning to see him, swallowing.
"Oh, figured it'd be rude of me to participate in a party, where the guest of the hour doesn't even know me." Isabella explained, dropping her legs, which was propped up to hold her book.
"What're you reading?"
"Hmm, an old romance novel, too feminine for a rugged cowboy such as yourself." Isabella said, teasing him, hearing him scoff.
"Ain't nothing too feminine for me," Arthur challenged, Isabella holding that book out to him, an eyebrow lifted.
"Alright, read it." Isabella challenged back, Arthur grumbling as he took a seat, a few feet beside her, taking that book. Isabella watched as his eyes scanned that page, reading over those printed words, actually enjoying the few he read before Isabella caught on and snatched it from him.
"Give me that back!" She said, Arthur laughing a bit, looking as if he proved his point.
"Told ya, ain't nothing too feminine for me."
"Yeah, I got it." She seethed, grouchy, Arthur taking a particular liking to this side of her. He fell in silence, until he heard the rustling of her clothing, Isabella reaching inside her vest pocket to remove her book of matches, a cigarette already nestled into the corner of her lips.
"Quite a night, ain't it?" She said, her gaze not on him, but on the moon, Arthur's own tired gaze casting up to the decedent black blue night, those dazzling stars twinkling brightly.
"Could be a night to snuggle up with someone, you never know." Isabella teased, wiggling an eyebrow as she used the bottom of her boot to strike and light her match. She lit her cigarette, watching it glow orange and red, her wrist flicking to put that burning match out.
"Want some?" She offered her rum, watching him lean forward and take that bottle, throwing his head back a bit to take a rather large gulp of that harsh liquid.
"I wouldn't know," He answered, after he swallowed "Don't really have anyone to lay up with." Arthur told her honestly, Isabella shrugging, "Welcome to the club." She called, exhaling the smoke she was holding, peeking a look over at him while she flicked her ashes into the grass.
"You ever been married?" She asked, curious really, and trying to attempt a normal conversation for once. Isabella heard Arthur snort, seeing that he took another gulp of her drink, wiping a dab of it off his upper lip. He sealed their shared drink shut, and set it back down beside her, taking that second to swiftly steal her smoke from her.
"Hey," She half growled, sitting up a bit.
"Tell you what," Arthur said, pinching that cigarette between his thumb and index finger, lifting it some, a notion that said she wasn't getting a choice on sharing.
"Question for a question, I'll give you the first one free, but the second is gonna cost ya." he said, before lifting that smoke to his lips, taking a pull.
"I've never been married," Arthur told her, locking that nicotine laced smoke deep in his lungs. "But I've been kissed, and have given kisses, many, many times." Arthur leaned some, returning that smoke to her, his eyes on her as he pitched his own question.
"How long ya been married..?"
"Question for a question," She said, taking that cigarette from him, "Seems fair." She says, taking a long drag, hearing his question. He was snooping, trying to figure out if she really was married, if her story really matched from what she told them in Colter.
It was Isabella who snorted this time, leaning back against her tree, watching as that smoke lifted into the night air and vanished in mere seconds.
"Seems as though, you're quite proud of your many, many kisses." She taunted him a bit, a tad jealous, the woman herself never had a kiss in her life. Arthur shook his head, a coy smirk on his face, "Couldn't have ya thinkin' I'm a chump." He told her.
Isabella flicked her ashes again, and then passed it back over to Arthur, her shoulders lifting as she inhaled, "About three years. It wasn't always the best marriage." She lied, "But we managed," She explained, looking at him, feeling the urge to change the subject.
"You say you've kissed a lot." Isabella said, a sly idea forming in her mind, that woman beginning to scoot in closer to him. "Bet you ain't ever kissed a woman like me." She challenged, her face merely inches away from his. She swore she heard him swallow nervously.
"I like the way you brag, cowboy." Isabella whispered, her striking gaze locked onto his own, watching his eyes search her own, and for a second Isabella was sure he was going to kiss her. She moved away before he had the chance to do so, Isabella getting up, dusting her dark trousers off of any grass or dirt she might have picked up.
"Goodnight, Mister Morgan." Isabella called, scooping up her rum, along with her book, venturing off to her tent, with Arthur's gaze on her back. He wasn't the only one watching her, those at the main campfire having watched the entire scene take place, mouths hung open.
"Now, that's not fair." Javier said, the first to break the silence, Lenny chiming in as they watched Arthur awkwardly stand up, watching Isabella's taken path.
"Well, he did save her life.."
"That does give him merit," Charles said, Arthur finally returning to see that every last one of them, was staring at him. A tense silence ensued between the observers and Arthur, that man giving his wrist a flick before he cleared his throat and looked down at the grass, his heavy footsteps sounding in that crisp grass as he walked, almost awkwardly, back into camp, avoiding all eye contact, before disappearing into his tent.
The morning after, Isabella awoke to groans all throughout the camp, those who participated in the party the night prior, simply miserable. Isabella stifled a giggle as she sipped coffee by one of the camp's many fire's, eyeing everyone around.
"Good morning!" A soft voice called, Isabella looking to her right to find Jack still in his nightly clothes.
"Why, good morning, young Jack, sleep well?" Isabella asked, seeing Jack nod, "Wanna play?" He asked her, but before Isabella could answer, Abigail was calling for her son.
"Jack, get back over here!" Abigail called from the entryway of the tent.
"Tell you what, see what your Ma wants, and we can play later." Isabella said, seeing Jack's eyes light up with excitement.
"Promise?" Jack asked, Isabella nodding, lowering her coffee mug.
"Cross my heart," Isabella said, using her index to cross over her heart, seeing Jack smile and then rush off to his mother, who spoke to him in a hushed tone as they stepped inside the safety of their tent.
"Good mornin', Missus Turkin." Miss Grimshaw called, Isabella giving a respect nod, "Good morning, Miss Grimshaw." Isabella called back, Miss Grimshaw coming to stand beside her.
"Ain't my place to ask, but would you be going out riding anytime soon?" Miss Grimshaw asked, Isabella turning at an angle to look at the older woman, lifting an eyebrow.
"Possibly, thinking about it."
"Well, could you find some oregano for me? Might throw a bit in the stew tonight when Pearson ain't looking." Miss Grimshaw whispered, causing Isabella to laugh a bit.
"Okay, Miss Grimshaw, I'll go looking for some." Isabella said, Miss Grimshaw reaching out to pat her shoulder, "That's my girl, thank you." She said before taking off, leaving Isabella to stand alone.
Minutes later, she was greeted with a new voice, one that was rugged and low still from sleep.
"Mornin'." Arthur called, Isabella having just put her coffee mug away, that woman looking up at him.
"Morning, sleep good?" Isabella asked, folding her arms over her chest, watching him scoop up the coffee pot and pour himself a cup.
"Mm, going out in just a few, got some business elsewhere, wanna ride with me?"
"Doing what?" Isabella asked, tilting her head just a tad.
"Debt collecting, from a Thomas Downes." Arthur explained, keeping his voice low.
"Do it later, Miss Grimshaw wants me to get her some spices, I'll need your help." Isabella said, unfolding her arms, beginning to walk on over to their horses, seeing Micah near her own mare.
"Get the hell away from my horse!" Isabella growled, Micah looking up, putting his hands up, "Ain't no harm done, sweetheart." Micah said, Arthur smirking smugly behind her as he made his approach to Utana.
"I could give two fucks, stay the hell away." Isabella warned, mounting Oya, who knickered happily, nodding her head.
"Of course, princess, you two have a nice ride now." Micah said, giving a smirk that made Isabella's stomach flip, that woman scoffing as she took hold of Oya's reins, turning that mare and taking off, Arthur right behind her.
"There's something I don't like about him," Isabella said, when they were out of the camp, making a right turn onto the main road.
"You ain't the only one darlin'." Arthur called, looking at her, seeing her drop her shoulders. It made him smile a bit, seeing that she relaxed in his company.
"What we lookin' for again?" Arthur asked her, spurring Utana forward a bit to stride beside Oya, Isabella keeping her at a steady pace.
"Believe it or not, we're looking for some oregano." Isabella explained.
The pair spent most of the morning scrowering fields, looking for that one little plant that would at least bring some flavor to their meal that night. It was Arthur who actually found it, grabbing a handful, and passing it off to Isabella.
"Aw, how romantic, you got me flowers." Isabella jokes, taking the oregano into her hand, her fingertips brushing over Arthur's skin, that man taking notice.
"You want romantic? Best I can do is throw your ass in the river." Arthur jokes, Isabella shoving him, "Shut up, you grouch." Isabella laughed, hearing Arthur laugh with her as they began walking back toward their horses.
"Thank you, for coming with me." Isabella said, reaching into her satchel to remove an apple, feeding it to Oya, who took it happily, munched on it loudly.
"Ah, ain't nothin'. Sides', ole Hosea would get on my ass if I'd let you go alone." Arthur said, petting Utana's neck, looking over at Isabella.
"Still, you could have said no, and got your ass beat by Hosea." Isabella said, Arthur laughing, "He'd lay me flat out, no joke."
"Ha! I'm not going to take my chances and attempt to find out." Isabella said, mounting up, settling into her saddle, hands on the horn.
"Damn, I was right." Arthur said, Isabella turning her head to look at him, seeing him pull himself into his own saddle.
"Hmm, about what?"
"You are a smart woman." Arthur explained, Isabella rolling her eyes, although she had a smile on her face.
"Stop trying to kiss my ass, cowboy." Isabella said.
"You're one to talk, with what the hell you pulled last night, trying to kiss me?" Arthur challenged, Isabella leaning in her saddle, pretending to look shocked, knowing within what she was playing at, and Arthur wasn't as dumb as he prentended to be, having caught on.
"I was not! I was simply stating what I liked about you," Isabella explained, which wasn't a lie, she really did enjoy the fact he bragged about his many kisses.
"You play a dangerous game, woman." Arthur said, his tone low, and something else was there, was that pleasure? Did he like the fact she was toying with him? Surely she was hearing things, and simply shook her head.
"Mm, you like the game I play." Isabella teased, moving her hands to her reins, spurring Oya forward, clicking her tongue. Arthur was silent, watching her move. There was something about her he liked, her boldness? Her confidence? That mischievous twinkle she had in her eyes last night? He didn't know exactly what it was, but he knew it kept him up late last night, whatever it was.
Arthur viewed her in the corner of his eye, a slight smirk on his face as he matched pace with Oya, Isabella riding her in pure confidence. The ride along back toward camp was laced in a comfortable conversation between the pair, both bantering about last night.
"Oh, so you're telling me if I stayed, you would have made a move?" Isabella asked, hearing Arthur scoff beside her, "Maybe, if you had stayed you would know that answer to that question."
Isabella laughed, slowing Oya, tugging on her reins a bit, "Oh yeah, right. You don't have the gulls!" Isabella challenged, Arthur ready to speak his mind, stopping when he noted that both Utana and Oya were a bit spooked.
It was Oya who reared up first, Isabella holding onto the reins as tightly as she could, a panicked look in her eye.
"Whoa girl, easy!" Isabella called, Arthur doing the same for Utana, that big brute nothing but a big baby.
Given Isabella's weak bond with Oya, that mare simply did not listen to her rider's command, continuing to rear up, until Isabella heard a soft snap, a strap on her saddle giving away, causing it to come loose. She was thrown from the back of her mare, the breath in her chest knocked from her as she landed on her wounded side. Oya took off in the opposite direction, as did Utana once Arthur dismounted, both kicking up a storm as they went.
"Bella?!" Arthur shouted, while Isabella gasped for air, feeling a warmth coming from her right side, a pained groan sounding from her.
Arthur didn't bother with asking questions, his hands on Isabella's shoulders to get her to turn over, onto her good side. The second he spotted the blood staining her blouse, he knew her wound had opened up again.
"Shit," He growled, shifting, so that he was kneeling beside her, his arms going underneath her, pulling her to his chest, so he could carry her and get her off the main road.
"You opened it again, I've got to patch you." Arthur said, a tad annoyed that of all days this had to just happened today.
"Hang in there, darlin'." He mumbled to her, taking her into the treeline, Isabella looking up at him, a pained expression on her face.
"W-Would now be a bad time to make a move?" She joked with him, and Arthur shook his head, trying to hide his amused smile. He stopped, and leaned over, setting her down, watching as she leaned back against the tree trunk. Arthur immediately went and reached for her stained red blouse, pinching the fabric between his index and thumb, lifting it a bit. Isabella reached swiftly, and took hold of his wrist, getting his attention.
"Whiskey," Isabella whispered, biting back another pained groan, Arthur gazing into her pained eyes just for a second before he let go and reached into his satchel to remove a bottle of whiskey, helping Isabella sit forward a bit so she could drink.
"Make sure you sanitize the-"
"I know, just let me take care of this," Arthur said, Isabella swallowing the words she had ready for him, watching him get up and whistle for Utana, hearing those hooves seconds later. Isabella was in and out of it, that pain settling in, causing her to beg for that drink that made her somewhat numb. She did feel that needle penetrate her skin multiple times, her hand reaching and giving Arthur's wrist a squeeze, hearing him mumble that she'd be alright. That man was flushed in the face, considering she wasn't wearing a corset, getting a look at her freckles that dotted down her belly. He hadn't seen anything like it before, and they mesmerized him in a way. To a point where he wanted to trace his finger along them, connect them with an imaginary line, hear her laugh and tell him that she was ticklish. He got caught up in his thoughts, hearing Isabella's groan pulling him from them, making him look up at her face, seeing that she was somewhat conscious.
"Blacked out again," Arthur said, finishing up his work, seeing his blood stained hands guide that needle into her skin again, Isabella wincing.
"Mm, how's it looking?" Isabella asked, Arthur shaking his head, sighing.
"You're gonna need a few days off, no work around camp, no riding out alone, just rest. Might as well pull you from camp."
"And go where?" Isabella asked.
"There's a hotel in Valentine. We could go there for a few days." Arthur informed her, pulling his knife from his sheath, cutting that thread.
"We?" She repeated.
"I ain't letting you go alone, and I ain't arguing with you about it neither." Arthur stated firmly, looking up at Utana, who was a few feet away, grazing.
"Stay right here, gonna clean up a bit, get a new shirt." Arthur said, standing, and before she could protest, he was gone, walking off toward Utana to clean up his hand with a water canteen.
Isabella sighed and laid back fully, her side throbbing with every breath she took. Concentrating on something else, like maybe a story she read long ago, or maybe even Arthur's footsteps. What slipped into her train of thought was the job she was here for, and how she had forgotten about it. She was getting way too friendly with everyone, including Arthur, and that was definitely not the best idea. She groaned, wanting to put her thoughts to silence, Arthur overhearing, thinking she was groaning from the pain.
"I'm comin'." He called, returning to Isabella with a shirt in hand, his skin free of her blood.
"Here, let's get you bandaged up first." Arthur said, helping her sit up, and eventually stand, wrapping that thinly striped cloth around her, covering the wound until it was no longer in sight.
"Let me get you out that blouse," Arthur said softly, his hands going to her hips to help her turn around and face away from him. Isabella didn't refuse, her finger undoing the buttons, shrugging that fabric from her shoulders, showing Arthur the few scars she had on her back. He gulped, seeing that her shoulders had those same freckles her stomach had, they dotted her mocha skin like the stars did with the night sky. Arthur found himself turning his gaze away, his hands unfolding that shirt of his, helping place it upon her shoulders.
Isabella managed the buttons on her own, that shirt that usually fit Arthur like a second skin was practically a dress on her. She rolled up the sleeves in silence, turning around to face him.
"A bit big, isn't it?" Isabella said, Arthur looking at her. The collar was a mess, sloppy and Arthur reached forward, fixing it, smoothing it down.
"It'll do, lets go ahead and get you settled, I'll go into camp and get you a few things, for now, you're gonna rest, and I mean it." Arthur told her, Isabella nodding her head, too tired to put up a fight.
"Okay, cowboy." Isabella said softly, watching Arthur turn and walk toward Utana, Isabella following right behind him, stopping when he did, that towering man helping her into the saddle first. He climbed in after her, feeling her lean back against him, and he let her, finding it useless to let her go uncomfortable, the woman already in enough pain.
The pair rode in silence, Isabella dozing off a bit as she rode in front of Arthur, jumping awake anytime she felt a slight throb in her side, not realizing that Arthur was holding her, keeping her from toppling over.
While his mouth was silent, his thoughts weren't, and he kept dwelling on the figure in front of him. How good she smelt, her bold attitude and light hearted jokes, and God, that small tug he felt whenever she agreed to ride with him. It'd been only a couple of weeks, but something was there, Arthur knew it, and while it should probably have filled him with happiness, it filled him with dread. She'd be gone in a matter of time, and there was no point in getting his own hopes up.
Arthur was completely undecided with how he truly felt about her, but he wasn't the only one, Isabella was just as undecided as he was.