The group sold the wagon, earning them a decent amount of cash to split evenly. A few days had passed since then, and now all they were waiting on was a tip to point them in the direction of either O'Driscoll brother.

Cormac O'Driscoll couldn't have gotten far. He had to be doing business in the area since he took the time to play poker before killing both Rosalie's father and uncle. Dutch was certain that if he and Hosea did enough surveying in the nearby town, they would come across something soon enough.

Rosalie hoped that was true.

Unfortunately, the wagon stealing had caused quite a ruckus. While it had gotten them a decent amount of cash for them to move with, the crime had been reported to the town's sheriff. It seemed the man was not one to leave a loose end untied, so the group needed to move before the sheriff came sniffing too close.

So, for the time being, they were just playing the waiting game till they got enough information on the O'Driscolls.

Rosalie spent most of her time trying to figure out her place in this group. It was hard to know where she stood with them due to the many years they shared already. The trio had a tight bond, that much was clear to her, and Rosalie wasn't sure how she would fit in. The week had given her more time to understand each person, and even if she wasn't sure of her place among them, she knew she liked all three of the men.

Hosea was a kind-hearted man. He was probably her favorite, just because he was one of the only people as of late who could make her laugh.

Most of the time she felt as though she was wading through the thick waters of her grief. She tried to not make it seem too obvious, but she knew it was hard not to notice when she would catch herself staring off into the distance for too long, a vacant look in her eyes.

Hosea had the talent of being able to pull not just any laugh from her, but one that came from deep within and brought tears to her eyes. The happiness was infrequent, so when he could give her some with his quick retorts, Rosalie would revel in it.

It hurt to spend time with Hosea because he reminded Rosalie so much of her father, but she couldn't help it. The likeness Hosea had to her father was painful, there was no denying that, but in a way, it also made her feel close to him. Like maybe she could have the chance of healing.

She was sure if Hosea and her father met under different circumstances, they would have been great friends.

Dutch was a remarkable man, and Rosalie couldn't help but develop a soft spot for him too. He was resolute yet filled with enthusiasm, the kind of presence she needed in her life amidst her grief. Whenever her thoughts threatened to overwhelm her, Dutch was there to offer reassurance. He would confidently affirm that they would track down and eliminate Cormac O'Driscoll; he wouldn't slip away from them. They would ensure that justice was served for those they held dear.

Rosalie couldn't forget the fact he had invited her to his camp. He offered her a place where she could potentially belong among himself, Hosea, and Arthur. He sold her father and uncle's horses when she couldn't. Dutch didn't ask for any bit of the money either, giving her the full amount without an inkling that he wanted to put it in his own pocket.

Dutch offered her a kindness that she was unsure she would ever be able to repay.

Arthur on the other hand, was a completely different story from the two others. She wasn't sure how to read him. That was partially due to the fact he had barely spoken to her after the wagon incident. He kept his distance, sitting at the opposite end of the firespit, and busying himself with anything else so he didn't have to talk to her during downtime.

Rosalie was hurt by his distanceâ"she couldn't deny it. This was the first time she had ever experienced a real conflict with someone her age, and she wasn't sure how to navigate it. It seemed as though he was upset she had shown off by jumping to the wagon and kicking the driver to the curb, but she wouldn't say she was sorry for it. Rosalie needed to prove her place, and she had done just that.

But it didn't mean she wanted Arthur to be mad at her. Was he even mad? It sure seemed so by his cold demeanor, but Rosalie was too nervous and would feel like an idiot walking up to him and asking what his damn problem was. She was worried she would let her temper get ahead of her, too. The last thing she wanted was to snap at him when she intended to reconcile.

Rosalie would just have to hope he warmed up to her again.

It was the early afternoon. They awoke to a leisurely morning filled with a few chores. Arthur had taken some of his clothes to clean them by the waterfront, bringing some of Hosea's with him too. Hosea seemed to be studying a map by the fire, while Dutch had disappeared inside his tent.

Rosalie was tending to the horses. Having brushed the others already, she ran the brush over Blitz's black flank, flicking the dust and grime off of his coat.

The quiet was different. Rosalie wasn't sure she liked it, the only sound being Hosea's humming as he looked at the map and the running of the river in the distance.

It left her alone with her thoughts. Something she would do anything to avoid as of recently. She was tormented by them enough in her dreams, the dark purple bags under her eyes were enough evidence of the sleepless nights. The pleasant surprise of Arthur bringing her coffee hadn't happened since that one morning, so she had little energy to run off of most days.

"Alright," Dutch said as he broke out of his tent, drawing Hosea's attention. Rosalie glanced over at them across the clearing, but they didn't seem to notice her listening in.

"Had enough time to think?" Mused Hosea as he stood holding the map.

"Mhm." Dutch nodded in acknowledgment to Hosea, before whistling in the direction of the waterfront where Arthur was scrubbing at his clothes. "Arthur! Come here a minute!"

Arthur stood slowly, dusting his hands off on his jeans and leaving wet splotches from the soap and water. After gathering his things, he came over with the wet clothes in hand. He set them down over the logs to dry before giving Dutch his full attention, brow raised expectantly.

"Hosea and I are gonna head into town to see if we can get any leads. Think I heard someone talking about a group of O'Driscolls coming to the local saloon later for some drinks. Once we get our lead, we're gonna pack up and head in whatever direction they are." Dutch explained as he put on his gun belt, tightening the strap. "While we do that, I want you to take Miss Rosalie hunting. Told me she's never been the other day and I can't think of anyone who would be a better teacher than you."

Arthur gave Dutch a deadpan expression. "You want meâ to take her huntin'?"

"Why, yes son, I do," Dutch retorted as he walked over to his white mare. He pushed his foot into the stirrup and swung himself into the saddle, Hosea walking over and doing the same to his horse. "She's gonna need to know how, so why don't you use this time to get to know each other better? Show her the proper skills of a hunter."

Rosalie tried not to grimace, looking between Arthur and Dutch, the sour expression on Arthur's face not weaning despite Dutch's instructions.

Dutch gave Arthur a tight smile, as though he was daring him to argue, before turning his horse and heading toward town, Hosea giving a small salute on their way out of camp. Hosea shot Rosalie a look before they went as if he was wishing her some good luck.

With Arthur's bad attitude, she would need some.

Rosalie stood at the edge of camp and fidgeted with the horse brush as she watched them leave. Blitz nudged her shoulder, and she was quick to turn her attention back to the horse, waiting until Arthur was ready to come over and get her.

She could tell he was not enthusiastic about taking her hunting. From what she knew about Dutch so far, she was sure his request was purposeful. He must have taken notice of the sour mood Arthur had been in lately, especially when it came to her. Maybe Dutch thought if he forced Arthur to spend time with her it would help cure whatever ill feelings he had towards her.

Rosalie wasn't so confident, though. Especially not by the deep sigh Arthur gave as he tipped his head down, hand on his hat and the other on his hip.

She frowned as she watched him from the other side of the clearing.

While Rosalie didn't want to make him mad, his attitude was starting to be downright rude. He was acting as though spending time with her was the worst torture possible. Was she really that horrible?

Anxiety filled Rosalie as she busied herself with brushing Blitz again as she heard his footsteps, the grass crunching under his boots as he crossed the clearing.

She didn't want him to know she had seen the interaction between the three men, or that she could tell how unhappy he was about following through on Dutch's request. The less fuel he had to hate her, the better.

Rosalie continued to brush Blitz, even as she heard Arthurs step near and then stop behind her.

Arthur cleared his throat. Rosalie turned around, blinking in feigned surprise underneath the brim of her hat. He seemed to buy her act enough because he didn't question it.

"So, uhâ Dutch says ya' ain't know how to hunt n' asked me to show yaâ so if you'd like, we can go out waysâ uh not too far but enough that we can find something worthwhile." Arthur proposed as he looked off to the side, rubbing a hand against the lower half of his face. He wasn't looking at her, his eyes trained on the ground.

Rosalie fiddled with the horse brush in her hands. "Oh! Well, only if you want to. He's right about that. I only know how to fishâ hunting was never something we did, soâ If you don't mind, I would appreciate that very much. If you were willing to teach me, I mean."

"Mhm, okay then." Arthur waved a hand over his shoulder as he turned to start walking back to camp. "Follow me then."

Rosalie glanced at her horse, the black stallion snorting the moment she turned her attention to it. Even Blitz seemed to be perturbed by Arthur's attitude.

She sighed and patted his side, before depositing the horse brush into its saddle bag and then swiftly following after Arthur.

Arthur gathered the supplies without much talking, handing things off to her to carry back to the horses before they left. She didn't need much else, as she had her revolver against her waist already and her rifle strapped to her horse. He seemed to make this seem like it was a short hunting trip. Maybe one that would take a few hours, so they didn't need an extended amount of supplies anyway.

It didn't stop him from loading her arms with supplies though. He piled some kind of game attractant, a bow, and arrows into her arms, before muttering a gruff 'follow me' and walking back over to their horses.

Rosalie felt dread in her stomach as she loaded the goods onto her horse.

She hoped this trip would be over soon if things didn't improve. Was she so hard to get along with? Or maybe she was just ugly, and he hated looking at her for too long.

Following Arthur's lead, she swung herself into her saddle and trotted out of camp. Staying true to his word, they didn't go far, only riding about fifteen minutes deep into the forest and following a stream they came across.

The treeline was thick and lush with hardwood trees, birds chirping overhead as twigs and leaves crunched under their horse's hooves in the peaceful silence. It was a cooler day, a gentle breeze drifting through, causing the vegetation to sway in its wake.

As Arthur seemed to find a spot he was satisfied with, he pulled his horse to a stop and dismounted, tying it to a tree. Rosalie did the same wordlessly, tying up Blitz.

"We'll travel the rest on foot. Follow the water until we find something," explained Arthur as he patted his horse's neck. "Last thing we want is to spook the animals, which these horses do a good job of doing."

Rosalie nodded as she took mental notes of his instructions. She wanted to commit everything he was saying to memory so she didn't have to ask him twice. The easier she made things, the better.

Arthur grabbed his bow, arrows, and rifle from his horse. Without him telling her to, Rosalie grabbed the same weapons from Blitz. The Bow felt odd in her hands, the weapon foreign and unnatural. She was used to handling a rifle on occasion, but her father and uncle were not the type to run around pointing guns at people. Or hunting, for that matter.

"I do appreciate you teaching me, by the way." Said Rosalie as she slung the weapons over her shoulder, adjusting the strap of her quiver. "My Daddy was never a hunting man. I've never seen anyone skin an animal before I watched you do it. We'd always eat canned goods before that."

"Ain't a problem." Was all he said, the disinterest obvious in his voice.

Rosalie frowned, but kept quiet, knowing when she was to take a hint.

Arthur and Rosalie began walking deeper into the trees, the green forming a vast canopy overhead for the afternoon sunlight to filter through. There was no longer the sound of the thundering river from their depth into the treeline, but instead the trickling of the lazy stream.

"A tip is to find water. Animals tend to frequent a stream or lake. They needa' drink at some point, so you're bound to find something." Arthur explained as they continued to walk.

Rosalie nodded in acknowledgment. A silence passed between them as they followed the stream. The quiet was eating at her, and she was desperate to bridge the awkward tension that had grown between them. It was driving her crazy to feel as though someone was mad at her. She didn't like it if anyone was mad at her, so it didn't matter that Arthur wasn't someone she knew particularly well.

"Who taught you to hunt?" She asked, testing the waters for how willing he was to have a conversation.

"Dutch and Hosea," Arthur answered easily.

"Ah," Rosale internally cringed at her awkward response. "Umâ are you good at it?"

Arthur shrugged. "I dunno. I always find at least somethin', even if it's just a squirrel."

"So you can't be terrible then. If you always find something, then you must be somewhat decent." Rosalie offered, not sure what her point was or where she was going with this conversation. She was thankful that he wasn't just shrugging her off, so she would take what she could get.

"Sure," he hummed, looking back at her over his shoulder. "I suppose."

They didn't say much else, only stopping and exchanging words once Arthur saw tracks. He pointed them out when he did and told her what animal it was from. Most of the time Rosalie could make a decent guess, but following the trail was another thing. He tried to explain to her that a trail could be more than imprints in the ground, but also distressed terrain. Rosalie could never tell which way an animal had gone by disturbed vegetation alone.

"These here are deer tracks, right?" Rosalie asked, pointing to the hoof marks in the ground.

Arthur had been walking a bit ahead of her, so he came to stand beside her to get a better look at what she was pointing to.

He was closer than Rosalie expected, standing barely an inch from her, their arms almost touching. She couldn't help but shift on her feet from the proximity, feeling her face heat up a bit. He didn't seem to think anything of her reaction, as his eyes were focused on the trail, his head tilted as he analyzed the marks in the dirt.

"They're deer tracks," Arthur confirmed with a nod of his head. He pointed to the trail ahead of them. "Let's go this way. Couldn't have gotten far."

Arthur began walking again, leaving Rosalie standing by the muddly trail with a stunned expression on her face. She let out a puff of air and rubbed the side of her face, willing the warmth in her cheeks to go away.

Rosalie had never been close to a boy her age like that before. At least not a boy that she wasn't trying to steal from. It was weird and made her nervous. Not that she had a crush on Arthur, but the proximity was startling. She hoped she wasn't acting strange, but from his lack of reaction, it was safe to say he thought nothing was amiss.

They walked a bit further before Arthur pressed a finger to his lips and motioned for them to crouch behind a bundle of ferns.

Rosalie did as he instructed, crouching beside each other behind the greenery. They were close, their legs almost touching. She could feel the heat from his body, arm draped over his knee as he looked ahead. Arthur's eyes were set on something up in the distance between the trees. Once again, he didn't think anything of their proximity, but Rosalie was doing her best not to breathe too hard.

"Do ya' see that up ahead? Between those oak trees there?" Arthur asked, his attention fixed ways in front of them.

Rosalie swallowed, looking away from him to up head.

She needed to stop getting distractedâ"she was acting like a nervous little girl. It was ridiculous.

Rosalie squinted, eyes scanning the forest area. She could see a whole lot, but she knew none of it was what Arthur was motioning to. Towering trees and overgrown ferns. Moss covering the rough bark, a few squirrels scamping up the trunks and into the overhanging branches.

"Erâ no, I don't," She cringed, still scanning the area for something that stuck out to her.

There was a pause, and she could feel Arthur's eyes on her. She tried to ignore his intense stare, scrambling internally to find whatever the hell he was talking about before he got more annoyed with her.

Rosalie had never been hunting before. All of this was new, so she hoped he kept that in mind, but the last thing she wanted was to annoy him or make him think she was incompetent. Or stupid. Arthur was hoping she noticed the trail in the vegetation that led to where an animal was, but it all looked the same to her. Not a fern or bush looked out of place.

Arthur pushed his fingers against Rosalie's cheek, angling her gaze more to the right. A bright red, furious blush lit up her cheeks as his warm fingers, their pads rough against the plush of her face, made contact.

While she could feel the heat in her cheeks, she tried not to display any other physical reaction to his touch, keeping her eyes locked straight ahead at the far treeline. His hand was gone as soon as it was there, her face cold.

But she didn't have time to react or process his physical touch, as Rosalie could see it now. In the distance, there were two deer.

A gentle doe grazed the grass, her ears flicking as she listened around herself. Beside her stood a large buck, his antlers well-grown, pointing high above his body. There was a majestic air to the buck as he raised his head, the sunlight filtering through the trees around his body. A calmness about him as he looked around.

"They're beautiful." Breathed Rosalie, the embarrassment of Arthur's fingers against her cheek disappearing in the awe of the animals. She could sit there and watch them forever.

The buck took a step towards the doe, nuzzling its face against his female companion. The doe returned the affection, her tail flicking.

Arthur watched Rosalie's awe-struck expression, his brows furrowing at the look she wore.

He had never seen anyone appear so entranced by the sight of animals interacting with one another, but he could see the beauty in it. They were beautiful creatures, and Rosalie did say she had never seen anything like it before. Arthur could say the same thing, as he had never seen someone look at anything the way Rosalie gazed upon the deer with pure awe and wonder.

Rosalie's lips parted, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners, wide brown eyes staring at the animals being affectionate with each other. The wind blew at her hair, a few stray blonde curls in her eyes, but she didn't move them as they caught under the brim of her black cowboy hat.

Arthur swallowed thickly.

"Do we have to kill them?" Asked Rosalie softly, who still hadn't torn her eyes away from the scene before them, the sunlight dancing off their brown pelts.

Arthur thought for a moment, tearing his gaze away from the blonde girl beside him. He turned his attention to the buck and doe who were still nuzzling against one another.

"No," he replied softly. "We don't have to."

The peace was nice between them as they watched the buck and doe, but it was gone too soon.

There was a sudden crack of a twig behind them, and the click of a gun. The two deer jumped, startled by the noise, before scampering off into the treeline.

"Don't move."

Arthur and Rosalie froze, facing forward. The two shared a look out of their peripheral, his expression hard. Rosalie was unsure what he planned to do, but as Arthur slowly raised his hands, she did the same, surrendering to whoever had guns pointed at their back.

Rosalie tilted her head down, frowning at the sight of black boots and pants out of the corner of her eye. She slowly dragged her gaze up, being careful not to crane her neck too much, taking in the sight of four men dressed in all black.

O'Driscolls.

Anger pooled in Rosalie's stomach at the realization. She still held her hands in the air, but couldn't help the tremor in her fingers, the red, hot emotion running through her. The image of her father's bloody body flashed in her mind, followed by one of her uncles with a bullet through his skull.

It took everything in her not to spin around and jump the man closest to her. She wanted to grab him by the throat and wrap her hands around it, squeezing until his skin went pale and his neck bruised.

Rosalie knew she would be shot before she had the chance of even doing that, though.

"Now who do we have hereâ" Muttered one of them from behind. "Now would this beâ Mr. Morgan? And a pretty lady friend? What a catch."

The hat was knocked off Rosalie's head. It landed in the dirt, and someone was running their hands through the bottom of her blonde curls. She stiffened, closing her eyes as she tried to resist slapping their hands away.

"A very pretty lady friendâ curly young thingâ do you think her hair is this blonde and curly everywhere else?"

There was laughter amongst the group. Rosalie felt like she was going to be sick, the vile sentence clear enough to hear what they intended to do if she and Arthur didn't get out of this quickly.

Arthur was tense beside her, his teeth grit. She was surprised to see how frustrated he was, but the talk of defiling any woman would send even a halfway decent man into a fit.

"You shut your damn mouth." Growled Arthur, his hands still raised above his head.

He was swiftly smacked over the head with the butt of a gun. He cried out but still remained kneeling, refusing to be knocked over. He huffed, jaw set as he tried to push through the pain.

"I don't wanna hear a damn word out of you." The man growled before he let out an amused laugh. "Though I can't wait to hear how Mr. Van Der Linde will react when he finds out his prize pony was beaten to death by O'Driscolls. Gonna be a nice treat."

Rosalie huffed and shot Arthur a look out of the corner of her eye. He met her gaze, seeming to be screaming at her internally not to do anything. But from the way this man was talking, and the vile acts he had described doing to her when they finished with Arthurâ she couldn't communicate enough with Arthur to come up with a plan, so she needed to act.

So fast she barely registered she had done it at all, Rosalie yanked the knife from her belt and spun around, slamming it into the O'Driscoll behind her. It landed deep in his thigh. The man screamed and dropped his gun, stumbling back as he grabbed his leg where the knife was lodged.

Arthur didn't waste his chance and jumped into action, body-slamming the man behind him. The O'Driscoll was startled by his comrades screaming, leaving an easy opening for Arthur to slam him into the dirt. The man fired in the open air but missed all his shots as he wailed loudly. Arthur swatted the gun out of his hand and pulled his own revolver, placing three shots in his chest.

Rosalie scrambled behind the tree, taking cover as the two men began shooting in her direction. With shaky hands, she pulled the rifle off her shoulder and aimed for them. She shot at their figures in the greenery, but missed, her bullets landing in the bushes as she let out a shout of irritation.

Rosalie would consider herself a fine shot, but she had never shot at anyone like this before, people a much different target than glass bottles set up on tree stumps.

Arthur got off the dead O'Driscoll and took cover behind a trunk of his own ways out from her, his rifle in hand too. He aimed for one of the men and hit them on the first try, the gun tumbling out of the O'Driscoll's hand and his body crumbling to the ground.

Rosalie lifted her weapon to shoot again but was grabbed from behind. She gasped as the rifle was hit from her hand. The wind was knocked out of her as she was thrown to the dirt and her arms pinned down to her sides. The O'Drsicoll she stabbed hovered over her, a wild look in his eyes as he held her down. He pulled a knife from his belt and held it to her neck as he laughed.

"You're a feisty one, huh?! Well, you picked the wrong one to attackâ I'm the worst feller hereâ" He pressed the knife deeper into her neck, the blade pinching against her skin.

Rosalie gasped, the anger she felt earlier contorting into fear as she felt the weapon draw a bit of blood. She was going to die. This man was too strong for her to fight back, and if she turned the wrong way she was sure the knife would go straight through her throat and kill her. His breath was hot against her face, rotten and disgusting as he grinned down at her.

There was another gunshot.

"Arthur!" Cried Rosalie, wiggling in the O'Driscoll's grasp. Her shouts were turning into desperate wails. "Arthur help!"

The O'Driscoll laughed again. "I hope my buddy shot that Van Der Linde trash. I hate that man. Even If we didn't get to beat Morgan to death, I'm sure we can do something with you to get under ol' Dutch's skin, hm?"

Rosalie huffed as the panic began to set in. The fear must have been wild in her eyes because the man only laughed harder.

She refused to be defiled like that. There was no sound of Arthur coming for her, so she knew she had to do something to save herself, or she would be nothing more than prey for this O'Driscoll, tormented by them just like her father and uncle.

Rosalie slammed her knee into between the O'Driscoll man's legs. He wailed as he fell over, his hands flying to his center as the knife tumbled out of his hands. She scrambled for the knife and straddled him. He didn't have any time to react, as Rosalie brought the knife down on him, slamming it into his chest over and over. Blood spurted out as her aim fumbled, the knife hitting his jugular. She didn't stop though, gasping as she continued to drive the blade down on his body.

Someone grabbed her by the shoulders. Rosalie didn't calm, seeing red as she screamed widely. No one was pinning her down, or throwing her like a rag doll, only the knife being ripped from her hands and tossed to the side. She must have been crying, as she felt the hot tears running down her cheeks. Everything was a blur, but she heard someone's voice talking to her and trying to get her to calm down.

"Hey! Hey! Rosalie!" Shouted the male voice, but she was flailing, her breathing wild.

Someone grabbed her face as she sobbed, hands warm and calloused as they kept her focused.

"Rosalie!"

She whimpered, slowly opening her eyes to see Arthur in front of her, his hat knocked off his head and brown hair tousled. His blue eyes were wide as he looked at her, and she felt herself beginning to calm at the sight of him, her breathing rugged.

"Breathe, okay? You're fine. You're alright." He said firmly. He took a deep breath in then out, motioning for her to do the same. "C'mon. You're alright."

Rosalue did as he said and matched his breathing. After a few times, her breathing slowed, and Arthur let go of her face.

Rosalie stood up, stumbling back from the sight of the bloody body of the man she had wildly attacked he was covered in blood, his frame almost unrecognizable. Slowly, she dragged her gaze away from him to herself, whose front was covered red. She reeked of iron, the blood covering her shaky hands, warm and sticky.

Arthur rubbed a hand over his face and sighed deeply. He took a step towards her, and Rosalie retreated like a wounded animal.

He frowned but didn't take a step closer. He only held his arm out and nodded towards the treeline in the direction of the camp. "C'mon. Let's go back to camp and get you cleaned up. We needa' tell Dutch n' Hosea what happened."

Rosalie took a shaky breath, before urging herself to take a step forward, allowing Arthur's arm around her shoulder to casually guide her back to their horses.

Rosalie snuck a glance over her shoulder as she walked, the man's bloody figure lying in the grass.

She had never killed anyone before now.