If it wasn't obvious how much Arthur did for the camp before, it sure as hell was now.
Some already knew mind you, Lenny always noticed how often Arthur's name appeared in the ledger. Pearson knew just how much meat he brought in. Charles noticing the number of jobs he went on.
The girls saw it the most.
They would watch him as he returned from one of his excursions, looking utterly worn out. Always dragging a deer or some rabbits or turkeys with him. Something going into the box. He wouldn't even look at his tent, just set about whatever chores were left.
They'd watch him do other people's chores for most of the day. He'd finally be done, go to rest and Miss Grimshaw would be on him, saying he never did any work around the camp.
It made the girls furious but they knew better than to speak up, lest they get a slap. Arthur, too worn out to argue, would simply mutter an apology and set back to work, waving off their concern.
They would make sure he ate something. Bringing him water whenever they could. He would always give them a grateful smile.
Just as he finished his second round of chores someone would call him for a job. Be it Dutch or Sean or Strauss. He would go, of course. Almost collapsing when they returned, usually at dawn.
It was sad what others could get away with. The ones on the job would be able to sleep all day. Others getting drunk or slacking off instead of working. But they'd have Arthur up before noon the next day to work. But he never complained.
They asked him why once. He explained that he's tried in the past but he was always written off. Told him he shouldn't be lazy, to stop complaining, or told him he was acting like a child. That everyone had to pull their weight.
At this point, the women believe he takes all the weight.
So, they do what they can. Make sure his clothes are washed first with the best soap. Work extra carefully to mend the rips or tears so it looks like they never happened.
They don't mind doing little chores for him, even taking his watch occasionally so he can rest.
He's always been kind to them. Never speaking a bad word or being suggestive like some men. Treating them with respect. Protecting them when needed. Lending an ear or a shoulder to cry on. Sitting with them in silence or filling it with nonsense. Helping chase away their fears.
They have no doubt that if they were taken, he would be the first one bursting through the door.
So, they take care of him. The way he would take care of them.
Dutch never leaves him for more than a minute. It gives them the perfect opportunity to tell him exactly what they see around camp.
Dutch doesn't look surprised. He nods solemnly, slight guilt in his features. He promises to do better.
They don't believe him at first.
But when Karen goes to storm into the tent and give Dutch a piece of her mind, the girls trailing behind her in hopes of getting her to stop, they are halted in their tracks.
Dutch was always sitting next to Arthur but now he was slumped over. His head rested on Arthur's chest; ear placed over his heart. Both Dutch's hands were wrapped around Arthur's, one holding his hand, the other pressed to the pulse point.
They notice immediately that Dutch is asleep, exhaustion finally winning out. Even though there are two bedrolls nearby he didn't move.
Even in sleep, he looked exhausted, his brow furrowed in worry.
It was then that they believed him.
They were so focused on Dutch they were startled to see Arthur awake. He hadn't been awake in days, his fever reaching dangerous heights.
Tilly is the one who moves, kneeling by Arthur's head, careful not to wake their sleeping leader.
"Hey, you." It's whispered but everyone can hear it in the silence of the tent.
Arthur smiles tiredly at her. She feels his forehead, letting out a small sigh of relief. "Your fever broke."
The girls nearly start crying right there but refuse to wake Dutch. Arthur hums tiredly, then gives a pointed look at the man asleep on his chest.
Tilly huffs out a quiet laugh, "You've been back a week." Arthur's eyebrows raise in surprise. "Your fever was bad, we thought we was gonna lose you."
Arthur leans into the hand on his forehead. Tilly smiles, "You had John, Hosea, and Dutch camped here for a while. After a few days, they convinced John to go back to his own tent. Hosea has been staying here but he's on your cot now. Too many nights on the floor, his joints are aching. This one though." She shoots an endearing look at Dutch. "Think he only left for bathroom breaks. And believe me, he wouldn't have if he could've gotten away with it."
Arthur snorts in amusement. The small action sending ease through the group.
She runs her fingers through his hair, "You get some more rest. I'll tell Miss Grimshaw your fever broke. We'll get you something to eat soon."
She places a kiss on his forehead before standing from her position.
They all exit quietly. Tilly pulls Grimshaw aside. Explains that Arthur's fever had broken and he was awake and coherent for a few minutes. But she should leave them be for now. Miss Grimshaw looks confused but Tilly tells her to poke her head in the tent and she'd understand.
She does just that, emerging a moment later with a small smile. She calls Charles over, tells him the news, and asks him if he could go hunting, get some fresh meat for Pearson to make Arthur some food. He agrees eagerly.
Despite the early hour, Grimshaw wakes John and Hosea, keeping her promise to tell them of any change, no matter the time. They can see the relieved slump of Hosea's shoulders.
The girls all smile at the happy turn of events.
Arthur was gonna be okay.
They were okay