Author's Note: This is probably my favorite chapter I've done so far. Charthur is my favorite pairing (tied with Vandermatthews) and Charlotte Balfour is probably my second-favorite side character in RDR2 (#1 being Hamish.) I wish she'd gotten to interact with some of the other members of the gang, so this is my solution to that. ;)
Day 9 Prompt: Visiting Friends
Willard's Rest, Roanoke Ridge, NR - December 9, 1910
"Deck the halls with boughs of holly..." Charlotte Balfour sang quietly to herself, swaying along with the melody while she peeled a batch of potatoes at the kitchen table. "Fa la la la la, la la la laaa..."
It was nearing sundown now, and based on the letter they'd posted to her last week, Arthur and Charles were due to arrive sometime in the late afternoon or early evening today. Whatever else the two former outlaws might be, they were nothing if not punctual.
In fact, the only time Charlotte could ever remember them being late for a visit was in the winter of 1904, just a couple of years after they'd finished building their home down in Great Plains. She had expected them to turn up in the late afternoon or early evening just as they usually did, and was concerned when they failed to arrive by nightfall, the sun rising the next morning without any word from either of them. The hours stretched on, morning became evening again, and her worry grew into panic when there was still no sign of her friends snaking their way through the trees or cresting the tops of the distant hills.
Finally, just before dusk on the second day, she received a hesitant knock at the front door. She stomped across the room to answer it, preparing to give them both a tongue-lashing they'd never forget for worrying her so, only for the words to dry up in her throat as soon as she saw the pitiful sight the two men made before her. Arthur was positively covered in long, narrow cuts and sloppily-stitched gashes. His leather jacket and buckskin vest had been torn to bloodstained ribbons, which hung off of him like some kind of grisly drapery. He wore no shirt underneath them at all, leaving his lower belly and upper chest exposed as he nearly vibrated with shivers in the chilly air. A moment later she realized why: Charles's arm was bound against his chest in a crude sling, which had clearly been repurposed from Arthur's ruined shirt.
"Hi there, Charlotte," Arthur said sheepishly, reaching up to rub the back of his neck but wincing and dropping his arm when it pulled at the still-healing stitches. "Sorry we're late. We, uh... had a bit of an interestin' trip up here, this time around."
"I should say so!" she exclaimed, ushering them inside and all but forcing them to sit down at the table. Charles in particular looked more than a little woozy, and she didn't need him falling over and hurting himself worse than he apparently already had. "What happened? I was hoping I wasn't right to worry about you two, but judging by the state of you it seems I was!"
"Cougar happened," Arthur grumbled, gesturing to what were apparently claw marks all over his chest and face. "Pounced on me from a tree just past the Elysian Pool last night. Charles shot it 'fore it could eat me, though, so that's somethin'. Clean kill, too - we saved the pelt. Uh, Merry Christmas?" He gestured vaguely to where the horses stood just outside the window, and Charlotte could see a tawny-colored roll of fur resting neatly on Horchata's rump behind Arthur's bedroll.
"I... Arthur... are you telling me you were mauled by a cougar, and your first thought was to skin it instead of going to the doctor?!"
Arthur just shrugged, and that day Charlotte began to understand why Charles sometimes got a look on his face like he wanted to strangle his very brave, very foolish husband. "Sure, I guess. It weren't the first time I've tangled with one of those hellcats, probably won't be the last. Nothin' a doctor can do for me that I can't do myself, anyway. 'Sides, Charles is the one I'm worried about."
"I'm fine, Arthur," Charles muttered, clearly having been over this with him several times already. "I still have a headache, but I stopped seeing double hours ago, and the sling could've come off already if you'd have let me."
Charlotte just raised an eyebrow and looked between them, waiting for an explanation.
Eventually the younger man sighed and admitted, "A rattlesnake got under Taima's hooves about an hour after we dealt with the cougar. It spooked her badly, and when she bucked me off I hit a tree."
"With your head, Charlie," Arthur cut in, glowering at the younger man. "You hit a tree trunk with your head."
Ah, Charlotte thought, that would explain the goose-egg on his forehead and the bruising on his cheek.
Charles ignored him, gesturing casually to the sling on his left arm as he explained, "I dislocated my left shoulder too, but we already put it back in. I'm alright now, I promise."
Charlotte was silent for a long, long while. Finally she sighed, shaking her head as she began opening and closing cabinets in search of a bottle of strong alcohol and her tiny med kit. "You two are an absolute mess, you know that?"
Arthur laughed, leaning against Charles's good shoulder with a quiet "ow" and a teasing wink in Charlotte's direction. "We've certainly been called worse."
Charlotte shook herself from her reverie as the last of the potatoes was finally divested of its lumpy jacket, smiling at the thought of her dear friends and their wild antics. Cal would have loved the pair of them just as much as she did, maybe more. He had always been such an adventurous spirit, curious and independent and even slightly reckless sometimes. He was a good man through and through, not a mean or jealous bone in his body, and there was no one else she would rather have wed. She still missed him every day, and she had no plans to ever marry again, but after a decade alone out here the memory of him no longer hurt, only warmed her heart.
She chopped the potatoes into rough cubes, humming all the while, before placing them in a bowl off to the side to be added to the stew pot a little later. She would need to butcher one of the chickens for it, too, but not until Arthur and Charles arrived. She wanted everything fresh for them, and if she put the stew on to simmer too early the potatoes might turn to mush before they even got here. A moment later, as she was cleaning off the table and scraping the potato peelings into a towel to be tossed into the compost pile, she heard a familiar baritone voice calling out from the front yard.
"Helloooo, the house!"
Charlotte grinned. Perfect timing - that was definitely Charles. She moved the bowls and cooking utensils onto the counter, straightening the tablecloth and smoothing the wrinkles from her apron while the sound of hoofbeats approached and then stopped just off the porch. A few seconds later two pairs of leather boots clomped up to the front door, and then Arthur's gruff voice floated in. He was singing loudly, the lyrics his own but the tune probably meant to be "Joy To the World." Arthur being Arthur, though, it was so off-key she couldn't be entirely sure.
"Ooo-pen the door, and let us iiinnn, it's gaahhhd-damn cooooold outsiiiiide..."
She had to cover her mouth to stifle a giggle when she heard Charles groan and mutter, "Arthur, please."
Wasting no more time, she threw the door wide, beaming when she saw the pair of them standing there in the fading twilight. "Arthur! Charles!" she threw her arms around each of them in turn, hugging them tightly and receiving a squeeze back that nearly forced the air from her lungs. "You're just in time! I was starting to wonder if you'd run into another cougar out there, or maybe a bear."
Charles snorted and shook his head. "No, thankfully just a couple of rabbits this time. We brought them along for you, by the way." He reached down to retrieve something from the ground that she hadn't seen, and she realized it was a pair of large jackrabbits tied together by a bit of twine around the ears.
"Oh, that's perfect, thank you!" She gestured for them to come in and took their coats as they passed through the door. "I was going to make chicken soup tonight, but rabbit stew sounds even better. Is that alright with you boys?"
"Anything's alright with us," Arthur answered happily. "Nothin' we make ever holds a candle to your cooking."
"Flatterer. Your cooking is just fine, I've tasted it. It was also what saved me from starvation, as I recall."
"Yes, and that investment has paid dividends," Arthur teased her.
"You'd best be careful before you get wise with the person cooking your dinner," she teased right back. "I might just 'accidentally' add too much pepper to your bowl."
"Yeah, I know. But you won't, because you're kinder than I deserve."
"Would you like us to skin these for you?" Charles asked, gesturing to the two rabbits as Charlotte gathered spices, mushrooms, and a bottle of white wine from around the kitchen and laid them on the countertop.
"That would be great, thank you. And then you two make yourselves comfortable at the table so we can chat. I know we've written to one another, but you always get into so many shenanigans that I know there will still be plenty of stories I haven't heard."
They did so, making quick work of the rabbits while Charlotte chopped button mushrooms for the stew. Once all the ingredients had been added to the pot and it was cooking over the fire, they all sat down at the table together to drink and chat. Arthur and Charles told her of all the goings-on at Lone Wolf Stead, from the births of several promising foals to the tragic loss of one of their best stallions from a lightning strike back in the spring, and even their idea to potentially start offering riding lessons at the Blackwater stables the following year. They also made sure to tell her how John and his family were doing, and Dutch and Hosea.
Charlotte had never met the Marstons, and had only had the pleasure of meeting Arthur's adoptive fathers on one occasion a few years back. But she always looked forward to hearing about them all; they sounded like wonderful people, and from the way Arthur spoke about them she could tell he loved them dearly.
In exchange, she told them of her own accomplishments as a writer over the past twelve months; she thought it a much less interesting tale than any of theirs, but they listened with rapt attention.
"My last novel was much more well-received than I thought it would be. I mean, it's wonderful, of course, just unexpected. Romance is a fairly new genre for me. It's mostly been published in Saint Denis and Rhodes so far, but it's scheduled to start shipping to Blackwater and Strawberry just before Valentine's Day next year."
"I'm happy for you," Charles said. "Writing has never been a talent of mine. I'm always impressed by the people who can do it so well."
"Yeah, congratulations!" Arthur said, his cheeks already rosy as he took another sip of his whiskey. "That really is fantastic, Charlotte. I ain't never considered myself much of a romantic, but I'm sure it's great. I'll be sure to pick up a copy and give it a read."
"Thank you both, truly. Oh! And that reminds me, I need to give you your Christmas gifts. Wait here just a moment."
"We got you a coupla things too," Arthur said. "They're in our saddlebags. I can go -"
"No, no, sit," Charlotte told him. "Thank you, but don't trouble yourself right now. I know you'll need to untack the horses in a bit, so it can wait until then. I just want to get these for you now so I don't forget."
She stepped into the guest room, which she had tidied just that morning. The bed was already made up with fresh sheets and blankets, and on top of it sat two rectangular parcels wrapped in brown paper. Taking one in each hand - they were quite heavy - she made her way back to the kitchen, setting them down on the table in front of Charles and Arthur.
"Charlotte, you didn't have to -" Arthur started, but she held up a hand to stop that train of thought in its tracks.
"I know, Arthur, you say that every year even though you both always get me gifts too. And just like I always tell you, I wanted to."
Arthur chuckled and tossed his hands up in surrender. "Alright, guess you got me there. Thank you, then. Do you want us to wait until after supper to open them, or...?"
"No, please, open them now. It's nothing much, just something I happened upon while I last in Saint Denis, but I hope you both like them."
"Oh, I have no doubt we will," Arthur assured as he opened his first. He ripped the paper straight down the middle with the edge of his thumb, and his eyes lit up immediately when he realized what was inside.
It was a set of North American field guides, which she had found in the bookshop where she was doing a signing for her novel. One was dedicated to plants and trees, full of thorough descriptions of the ornamental, edible, and medicinal uses for each as well as detailed sketches of all parts of the plant from root to leaf. The next was all about fish, covering everything from how to discern similar species and where to find them to how best to catch and eat them (if they were edible at all.)
Lastly was the one she had been most excited for, and the one that convinced her to buy the set in the first place: it was an enormous volume about North American wildlife. Every entry came with a bit of information about the animal, be it mammal, reptile, bird, or insect, with descriptions about their habitats, behavior patterns, and whether or not they were dangerous to people or livestock. Best of all, all of the larger animals' entries included a sketch of their tracks.
Arthur's eyes were wide as he laid the three books side-by-side on the table and briefly flipped through each one, and by the time he reached the animal field guide he was positively beaming. "Wow, Charlotte, these are amazing!"
"They are," Charles agreed, peeking at the pages as Arthur leafed through them. "They'll be great for improving your tracking too, huh?"
"Shut it," Arthur growled, although there was no real heat behind it. "I've been getting better at tracking, I'm just not as good as you."
"Actually, I was thinking they'd be good references for your drawings," Charlotte added. "I've only seen a few of the sketches you made in the past, but they were excellent. I thought it might help to be able to have these on hand, for those plants or animals you didn't get a good look at or didn't recognize."
"I thought that might be the reason," Arthur said happily, stacking the books back together and resting his hand on top of them. "I love them, and I promise they'll be put to good use just as soon as I have some good light to draw by again. Thank you."
"Of course, you're welcome," Charlotte said, taking another sip from her glass of red wine. "Now it's your turn, Charles."
Charles nodded and smiled before picking up his own package. Charlotte didn't begrudge him the silence; he was a soft-spoken man anyway, but he'd always been especially shy about receiving gifts, moreso even than Arthur. In the early years of their friendship it had been all she could do just to convince him to accept them, but thankfully she and Arthur had gotten him over that a long time ago. He opened it more carefully than Arthur, peeling back the corners and sliding the paper off rather than ripping it. It took him a moment to realize what he was looking at, but when he did his eyes widened dramatically.
"Is... is this...?"
"Yes," Charlotte answered, looking at the trio of thick leather-bound books he held in his hands. The titles were embossed into the covers and accented with metallic gold paint: History of the Indian Tribes of North America, Volumes I-III. "They were published between 1838 and 1844, so of course there's quite a bit of... recent history, that isn't included. But the author was head of the Bureau of Indian Affairs at one time, and he recorded an enormous amount of information - maps, biographies, and over one hundred lithographs of some of the chiefs and other notable figures of that era.
"I knew you had said you were fairly certain your mother's family came from the Sauk and Meskwaki tribes; there are sections about them, also, and portraits and biographies of Chief Keokuk and Chief Wapello. I didn't know if you might have any living relatives who descended from them directly, but... it's a good place to start, at least."
Charles didn't speak for a long moment, just flipping slowly through the opening pages of the first volume with a barely-visible tremble in his hands. Then he closed the cover and stood, making his way around the table to Charlotte's seat and pulling her into a crushing hug against his chest.
"Thank you..." he said, his voice so full of emotion it was barely above a whisper. "I... it's wonderful."
"You're welcome," she murmured, returning the hug and rubbing between his shoulder blades while he took a moment to collect himself. After a moment he pulled away, sniffing softly and clearing his throat before sitting back down beside Arthur, and the older man leaned into him and laid his head on his shoulder.
"Sounds like we have a new genealogy project to work on besides the horses' pedigrees," Arthur said, and Charles nodded slowly.
"Seems that way. How did you come across these, Charlotte? They look like academic volumes, so I can't imagine they were sold in most shops, and they've probably been out of print for decades."
"Ah, yes. There's actually a story behind that. Remember how I said I happened upon them when I was last in Saint Denis?"
"Yeah," Arthur replied. "You find 'em in the same bookshop as mine?"
"No, actually. I was paying a visit to a friend of mine after the signing, another author I've known since before Cal and I made the journey out here, and... well, it's a bit of a long story. The short version is, he's retiring from his teaching position at the university to travel the world. He's been involved in politics over the years too, and is a staunch opponent of the government's treatment of the tribes. He had quite a few volumes like this in his collection, and he offered some of them to me before he donated the rest to the Saint Denis library."
"Sounds like an interestin' feller," Arthur said, refilling his glass and raising it to his lips. "What's his name? Maybe I've read somethin' of his before."
"Evelyn Miller."
Arthur choked on his mouthful of whiskey, barely managing to turn his head in time to avoid spraying it all over the table and his new books. He was coughing so hard he was red in the face, Charles reaching over and patting him on the back as he hacked into his fist.
"Are you alright?" Charlotte asked, a little concerned.
"Fine... 'm fine," Arthur croaked after a moment, wiping his streaming eyes and then removing his neckerchief to clean up the whiskey he'd spat on the floor. "Sorry. That was just the last name I expected you to say."
"You're an enjoyer of Evelyn's works, I take it?"
"Nah, not me. Dutch is, though. Evelyn Miller's been his personal hero for... hell, as long as I've known him, probably. I think I had every one of his books read to me cover-to-cover at least a hundred times, whether I wanted to or not." He paused, looking guiltily at Charlotte as he remembered she was a friend of Evelyn's. "Not, uh, not to insult his writin' or nothin', it's just a little... too complicated for me to -"
Charlotte laughed and waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry, I'm not offended on Evelyn's behalf, and he wouldn't be either. He knows he can be a bit... verbose. It's one of the things he always says he likes least in his own prose."
"Yeah, well, so can Dutch. Must be why he likes readin' it so much."
"Hold on," Charlotte said, struck by a sudden realization. "Wait here again, if you don't mind. Just for a moment." She fought back a smile at their confused looks, not wanting to give anything away just yet, and made her way to her own bedroom and to the bookshelf on the far wall. It didn't take long to find the title she was looking for, and a moment later she was carrying it back to the table, placing it triumphantly in front of the two men.
"Is this one of Mr. Miller's?" Charles asked, and Charlotte nodded in response.
"The cover don't look familiar, though," Arthur said, squinting at it. "Pretty sure I've seen 'em all enough to have the covers seared into my memory. Dutch didn't mention a new book releasing, recently."
"That's because this one hasn't been released. Not yet," Charlotte told him. "This is the last work Evelyn completed before his retirement. It's called 'America,' and he only had two copies made up before he left. He said he wanted to wait to publish it officially until he got back from his travels, to see if what he had written still held true." She flipped open the front cover, where the man himself had signed the first page in his long, looping scrawl. "He still has the original manuscript, but I was given an advance copy, just to see what I thought of it. Knowing how much Mr. Van der Linde loves his works... well, I'd like to send it along with you as a gift."
Arthur gaped at her for a moment, his jaw hanging open as he stared at the book. "I... don't even know what to say, except 'thank you.' Dutch'll lose his mind when he sees this. But I just want you to know, he's probably gonna want to be your new best friend after he realizes you know Evelyn Miller."
Charlotte laughed, standing and walking over to check on the stew. "That's alright, I wouldn't mind. He and Hosea are good people, and I loved meeting them when they came up with you before."
Arthur sighed dramatically before taking another slug of whiskey. "Alright, if you say so. Just don't say I didn't warn you."
The rest of the evening passed in a blur, the three of them shrouded in a warm, comfortable haze. The stew was delicious, and they all ate their fill until they were stuffed and sleepy. Drinks were poured, songs sung, and laughter shared over jokes and stories. At one point they even danced to a few records on the gramophone, Arthur and Charles taking turns swaying and spinning around the room with both Charlotte and each other.
During one song Arthur gracefully dipped Charles back and leaned in for a kiss - only for Charles, who was well and truly tipsy by now, to lose his balance and fall over backwards, pulling Arthur down on top of him. Charlotte rushed to make sure they were alright, but neither was hurt, just slightly embarrassed. Charles laughed until he couldn't breathe, while Arthur and Charlotte laughed more at Charles's laughter than anything else, and after that they all decided they should probably wait to start dancing again until morning.
"Alright," Charles muttered after one last sip of his drink, his words slightly slurred and his cheeks noticeably darker than the rest of his face. "I *hic* think that was th- *hic* the last one for me tonight. *HIC!* Ugh, ow."
Arthur groaned beside him, stretching lazily as he fought not to fall asleep in his chair. "Yeeeah, I think 's time f'r bed, Charl- Sharl- Ch- Che - you," he slurred, giving up on saying either of their names correctly and just pointing at Charles. "Thanks f'r havin' us, Sh- Char- Shar- god dammit."
"Yes, th- *hic* thank you," Charles finished for him, pulling Arthur to his feet and holding him steady as he swayed in place. "I assume the guest room is okay t- *hic* to use like usual?"
"Of course. I already got it made up for you," Charlotte said, grinning in amusement at the pair of them. "Get some rest, both of you. I'll see you in the morning."
"Alright. Thank you, Charlotte."
"Thankyooouuu..." Arthur slurred, leaning on Charles as they made their way across the main room.
She waited a little while after they disappeared through the door, making sure she didn't hear the sounds of anything - or anyone - falling over, and then made her own slightly tipsy way to her bedroom. She changed into her nightclothes and slid under the covers, her eyelids heavy as lead with exhaustion and drink. By the time her head hit the pillow, she was already asleep, safe and content in the company of her two dearest friends.
Notes: I had soooo much fun writing the dynamic between these three. Also, Dutch is absolutely going to be trying to get Charlotte to set him up for a meeting with Evelyn Miller now. She has no idea the absolute fanboy she may have unwittingly unleashed. XD
Chapter 10's prompt is "Warm Soup After Being In the Cold," and for this one we'll be getting to visit some characters we haven't seen in this story yet. See you there!