"Here is the money I promised you, Mr. Van Der Linde," Charlie said, handing Dutch a thick envelope of cash.
They sat in the living room, reminiscent of the night they protected the cigar cellar from the O'Driscolls attack. The memory made Rosalie bite her lip to prevent herself from grinning, thinking of how George had sat up and looked around wildly like he came out of a coma, with his hair a mess, and tie hanging off his neck at the sound of them entering the room. The poor guy didn't stand a chance in his halfway asleep daze.
Though George wasn't here now. He was expected to be arriving soon with Louis as they were out for lunch.
Rosalie sat on the loveseat beside Dutch and Hosea, her grandfather to their right. She sat closest to him. He wore a white shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and a deep green vest with silver buttons.
Her grandfather patted Rosalie's leg. "I thank you all for the effort you put into getting rid of Forswood… I can't believe the man would resort to such slimy tactics…" He sighed and shook his head. "Destroying my cellar… insane."
"Well, we are glad to be of service to you, Mr. Montgomery," Dutch said with a polite nod.
"I'm sure you like the money even more," Charlie said with a raised brow, pouring himself a glass of brandy.
Rosalie snorted, still unable to believe the smart mouth he had on him sometimes.
Dutch only smiled at Charlie painfully, though Rosalie could tell the comment unnerved him, and he wasn't sure how he was supposed to respond to that politely. Hosea gave Dutch a sideways look, but didn't say anything outright.
Charlie sipped at the rim of his glass, then raised it toward Dutch. "Regardless, I thank you for your efforts and for keeping my granddaughter safe…" He glanced at Rosalie. "Although I wish she were staying here, I know she'll be in good hands with a gentleman like you."
Rosalie smiled at him and touched his elbow. "You know I would only embarrass myself, and you by sticking around here, Grandfather." She gave him a teasing grin. "The garden party made me look like a fool enough."
Charlie snorted. "Well, George certainly didn't think so. He still proposed to you, did he not?" He asked with a raised brow.
Rosalie flushed and looked away. "Alright, I think that's the brandy talking." She muttered, not wanting to think about how George had bared his heart on his sleeve to her and she turned him down.
Charlie chuckled, thinking her blush to be from her feelings for George, but before he could get another word in, the door opened.
George walked inside first, taking his hat off and flashing Rosalie a smile in the doorway. She returned it eagerly, glad to see him for the first time in a while, despite her grandfather's teasing only a moment ago.
Louis trailed in after him and walked around George, heading to their grandfather. He took one of the glasses from the tray on the polished, cherry wood coffee table, and poured himself a cup of brandy. He sipped the glass with his hand in his pocket.
"So, Grandfather says you're leaving?" Louis said, looking at Rosalie.
Rosalie nodded. "Yeah, tomorrow I think."
George's smile faded from where he stood in the doorway at her answer. He fidgeted with his hat, looking off to the side in an attempt to hide his dismay.
Louis's perceptive gaze drifted to George, who was doing his best to seem occupied with his hat, before returning to Rosalie. She blinked up at him from the couch with big brown eyes, and Louis gave her a warm, small smile.
"Well, I'll be sad to see you go, cousin. It's too bad we didn't get to spend more time with each other." Louis said. He sipped his glass with a shrug. "Julie took up most of your time anyway."
Rosalie flashed him a smile, "I know, I feel like I was here for such a short amount of time… but it's time for us to go. Don't want to draw too much attention since we got into a lot of trouble with Forswood." She explained. "I'd hate for you guys to get in trouble because of me."
Louis's face twisted as though he had tasted something sour. "Forswood. I hate that slimy corkscrew." He sniffed and looked off to the side, his dainty features twisting into an evil scowl. "Mange-merde."
Charlie looked at Louis with a bewildered expression. "My boy! That is rather impolite!"
Rosalie shared a look with Dutch and Hosea.
The trio had no idea what the hell came out of her cousin's mouth. Louis was a rather odd fellow, but she supposed that came with knowing multiple languages.
"It means shit eater!" Julie called, coming down the stairs and into the living room, her pretty green dress swishing as she went, her gloved hand gliding down the railing. "Mange-merde; French!"
Eleanor was hot on her tail, wearing a similar styled dress to Julie, but in baby pink. She gasped. "Juliette Montgomery! You watch that foul mouth of yours!"
Eleanor came to a stop beside Julie behind the couches. She gave her a disapproving look and swatted Julie with her clutch. "We have guests! Act like a lady!" She scolded.
Dutch got to his feet at the sight of Eleanor. He gave her a warm, polite smile and came around the couch to greet her. "I don't believe we've met. You are…?" He held his hand out, hoping she would offer it to him.
"Oh, I… I uh.." Eleanor blinked, surprised by his charm and forward nature. She cleared her throat and put her hand in his, holding her head high. "Eleanor Montgomery. I'm Rosalie's aunt."
Dutch planted a gentle kiss on the top of her hand. "Well, Miss Montgomery, it is a shame that I have not met your acquaintance before today, as I'll be departing soon…" He trailed off, giving her a charming smile as he lifted his head.
"Oh, how unfortunate indeed," Eleanor agreed, giving him a flirtatious smile.
Julie looked at her mother like she was about to throw up. "Mother, please, we have guests." She chided, crossing her arms as she gave Eleanor a sideways look.
Rosalie blinked, that interaction being the last thing she expected. She didn't know Dutch liked the wealthy, high-status types, but it did make sense in a way. Dutch liked to behave like a polished man even though he was far from one as an outlaw.
Charlie shifted in his seat, not appreciating the moves Dutch was pulling on his daughter. Hosea rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Charlie.
"So, do you have any plans to regain control over the tobacco market now that Forswood is dealt with?" Hosea asked, eager to find anything he could to preoccupy himself so he didn't have to watch Dutch make googly eyes at Rosalie's aunt.
"Ah! Yes!" Charlie cheered, turning his attention to Hosea. "We plan to…"
Rosalie got up from the couch and left Hosea and her grandfather to their conversation, Louis adding his opinion where it was needed. She walked over to the doorway where George was still looking to the side and fiddling with his hat.
"Hey," Rosalie said softly, folding her hands. She stood in front of him and looked up to meet his green gaze.
George leaned against the doorframe and looked down at her, plastering a smile on his face. "Hey there." He said softly.
Rosalie gave him a small, pained smile. She could tell something was amiss with him, even though he was trying not to let it show. George being ever the optimist, the last thing he wanted was to make her feel bad. Rosalie wished she could be as selfless as him at times, plastering a smile on his face for the sake of others despite how his insides twisted.
Instead, she resulted in being drunk and making a fool of herself when she was upset. She really could take notes from him.
Rosalie reached out, hesitating for a moment, but placed her hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You alright?" She asked, hoping that he would be honest with her.
George looked down at her hand. His heart clenched in his chest at the feeling of her warm, concerned touch, but he didn't let any of that show. He only gave her that same smile, though it looked a bit more real this time, paired with the sadness in his green eyes. "Yeah, I will be." He said softly.
The corner of his mouth twitched as he took a deep breath. "Just going to miss you."
Rosalie still couldn't believe the gentleness he had in his eyes as he looked at her. Even with the rejection she had given him, even after she had turned down his warm proposal; an offer of a comfortable, safe life with him, he wasn't angry. George still loved her all the same. It was baffling to her.
Time and time again she was shocked by the kindness in George's heart, and she wished she could be as selfless as he was. He was genuinely a good man.
Rosalie wished she could return his feelings. But it seemed human hearts were fickle, choosing whom to love regardless of convenience.
"I'm going to miss you too," Rosalie confessed, slowly letting her hand slide away from his arm. "But you'll just have to write me. It'll be hard to pin me down, but I can give you a general idea of where I'm heading, and… I'll make sure to take trips to the nearby post office."
"I'd like that," George said, nodding slowly as he stood up straight. "I would."
Julie came over to the pair and looked at Rosalie with sad eyes. "Oh, I'm going to miss you! I wish you could stay longer." She said, opening her arms to pull Rosalie into a hug.
Rosalie returned her embrace, patting her back.
Julie and Rosalie were two very different ladies, but that didn't mean they weren't family. Julie was trying to find her place in high society, awkwardly navigating certain areas as she searched for her identity. Rosalie could empathize; attending just one garden party made her feel like a stumbling toddler.
Julie did her best to forge a connection with Rosalie. She showed her how to do makeup, dressed her up, and made her feel like a proper lady. Femininity was something Rosalie had never really experienced, as she had only grown up with male influences in her life. Her father and uncle didn't know anything about being a girl. Rosalie appreciated Julie's efforts in that regard, as it really did help her feel more comfortable just… being a girl.
Rosalie was going to miss them.
Hosea and Dutch left, with Dutch mentioning something to Eleanor about taking her out for a drink later that night.
In hindsight, this confused Rosalie, as she thought he was in a relationship with Susan. Rosalie didn't know what was going on there, but she didn't want to think about it too long, or it would make her head hurt. She didn't care all that much about Dutch's romantic affairs anyway.
Before she parted for the last time from the Montgomery Manor, Charlie asked to speak with her in private. So, she sat in his study on the plush, red loveseat, her hat resting in her lap as she waited patiently for her grandfather to speak to her.
Charlie fished something from his desk across the room. He slid out a small, wooden box with shiny, polished wood and a gold latch from a drawer. He brought it over and set it on the coffee table delicately as though it was the most fragile thing in the world.
"This is the last of your mother's things," Charlie said, looking at the box with a faraway expression. He shrugged with a small grin, glancing at her. "Well, I have many more of her things too, so if you ever settle down and want to have them, I will give them to you happily, but these… well, these are things of hers that I find the most important." He said.
Charlie gestured for her to take it. Rosalie glanced at him, then at the box, unsure. The corner of her mouth twisted, before she finally scooted forward and took the box into her lap, moving her hat to the side.
Rosalie undid the clasp and lifted the lid, blinking at the trinkets inside the box.
The first thing that caught her eye was a bridal hair comb. She picked it up, the metal heavy, and jewels sparkling in the light. The metal swirled in the shape of a cluster of flowers, diamonds, and sapphires littered throughout the hairpiece. It was probably the most beautiful thing Rosalie had ever seen.
"That was your mother's favorite–wore it all the time. Eleanor would try to steal it from her too since she liked it so much. Oh, they would fight over it constantly." Charlie laughed, thinking about how his daughters used to squabble.
"I'm worried it'll get broken… or stolen…" Rosalie confessed, looking at her grandfather. She would hate to be entrusted with something so important for a bad thing to happen.
Charlie shook his head and patted her leg. "It's better it's with you rather than sitting in a dusty box in my office. Addie would want you to have it anyway." He said.
Rosalie nodded slowly and set the comb back into the box.
The next item was a solid gold cross necklace. She held it in her palm, her gaze skittering across the pendant as she imagined what her mother looked like wearing it.
Did she put this on every morning as part of her daily routine, or was it reserved for special occasions? Did she struggle to put it on and end up asking someone to clasp it around her neck after a few minutes of trying? Why did she leave these things behind?
Rosalie wished she could ask her about these things, or… ask her anything in general.
"Would you help me put this on?" Rosalie asked, looking over at her grandfather.
Charlie nodded and stood as Rosalie turned her back to him and pulled her curls over her shoulder. He took the necklace and pulled the chain around her neck, clasping it. He patted her shoulder, looking down at a small stack of letters at the bottom of the box.
"What are…?" Rosalie said out loud, pulling the small stack out of the bottom.
Her heart stopped at the short, messy scribbles of her father's handwriting on the envelopes, addressed to Charles Montgomery.
"Over the years, your father sent me a few letters about you and where you were. I think he felt he owed it to me because of Addie's passing. They speak of you, your travels, and… among other things," Charlie explained, looking down at her. "I felt it was only right for you to have them."
Rosalie stared down at her father's messy scribbles, blinking away the tears that threatened to fall.
This meant so much more to her than she could put into words. Having something to read in her father's own handwriting, his own voice, meant everything to her.
Rosalie stood and pulled her grandfather into a hug. "Thank you." She whispered over his shoulder, trying her best not to cry.
Charlie smiled softly and returned her hug. "I'm going to miss you, kiddo. Please write to me." He said softly. "And stay safe. Please. I know you're your mother's daughter, so you're bound to get into trouble, but don't let it get too out of hand."
Rosalie pulled away and smiled at him. "I will. I'll write, and I'll do my best to stay out of trouble." Her smile turned crooked. "But no promises."
Charlie laughed and patted her cheek.
From there Rosalie went to see Isabella. She tucked the box into Blitz's saddle for safekeeping before she left for Isabella's store.
This goodbye would hurt a lot, and she knew it, as Isabella was the first true female friend she ever had. She would miss her most even.
Rosalie rode into the Spanish district and hitched Blitz outside, then slid off the saddle and headed to the store entrance. Before entering, she peeked inside to double-check that Isabella's mother wasn't around. The last thing she wanted was for their final words to be overshadowed by Isabella's mother having a conniption at the sight of Rosalie in their family store.
Rosalie didn't see Isabella's mother anywhere, so she deemed it safe enough to enter.
She came inside, the door chiming as she opened it. At the sound, Isabella came around from the hallway. Her face lit up in a bright smile and she came over to Rosalie for an embrace. Rosalie eagerly returned it, hugging her friend tight.
"I haven't seen you for some time now! I thought something was wrong! I'm so glad to see you!" Isabella said, talking a million miles a minute as she pulled away. She looked over Rosalie's appearance, her gaze skirting over her frame for any signs of bruises or scrapes. Her brow quirked. "Though you do look a bit skinny. Have you been taking care of yourself?"
Rosalie gave her a sheepish expression. "Well, I wouldn't say I've been taking the best care of myself… so no. I've had a rough week." She confessed, looking off to the side.
Isabella gave her a disapproving expression. "You look as though you've been all whiskey and no stew." She said.
Rosalie snorted. "Well, probably because I have been. I'm better now though."
Isabella didn't press the matter anymore. She shook her head and huffed, crossing her arms. "Well, it doesn't matter. I'm glad you're doing better. Did you come by just to see me, or…?" She asked, tilting her head.
Rosalie smiled at her sadly. Ever the perceptive her friend was.
"Yeah, I'm uh… I'm leaving, so I wanted to say goodbye." Rosalie said.
Isabella's eyes turned sad. "Oh?"
Rosalie nodded, fidgeting with her fingers. "Yeah. I knew I wouldn't be here long, but I just didn't know what the timeframe was before, you know? But I wanted to say goodbye before I left. You've… you've been a great friend to me. I've never had a close friend like you before, so I… I appreciate it is all." She confessed, her face turning red from the heartfelt confession.
It was embarrassing being so gushy.
Isabella grinned, then pushed on Rosalie's shoulder playfully. "I love how bright red you get. It's so funny. I wish my face could turn that color. I think it's a talent." She teased.
Rosalie scoffed and looked away, pressing a hand to her face in the hope it would cool it down. "Okay, very funny. I'm trying to be sentimental!"
Isabella's teasing smile turned warm. "I know. I'm going to miss you a lot too. I don't have many friends since I'm usually taking care of the store or my sisters… So I'm grateful to you for the company you've offered me." She pointed an accusing finger at her, her face turning stern. "You have to write to me. And if you visit, you have to come see me. Or I'll hunt you down myself, understand?"
Rosalie laughed softly. "I understand."
Isabella went behind the counter and rummaged through a few things out of Rosalie's view. She grunted before lifting a thick, orange, and red striped blanket and holding it against her chest. Coming over to Rosalie, she held it out with a soft smile. "I've been working on this for you. It's a gift, so please take it as my goodbye. It's good quality and will keep you warm—made of unspun virgin wool," she said.
"Oh, I can't take this…" Rosalie said, looking at the thick, heavy blanket in Isabella's arms.
"Oh no, you're going to," Isabella insisted, dumping the blanket into Rosalie's arms. "It won't be much use to me here. If you're heading up to the Grizzlies or anywhere farther north, you'll need it. Besides, I put all this effort into making it for you. So no arguments."
Rosalie looked down at the blanket in her hands, the material thick and heavy. It was high quality, and she could only imagine the amount of time Isabella had put into it for her.
Rosalie gave her friend a thankful smile. "Thank you. So much."
Isabella returned the smile. "Of course."
The final person Rosalie had to say goodbye to was Annie. Seeing the girl at the orphanage was bittersweet, but Rosalie promised to write often and assured Eloise, the orphanage headmistress, that she would send money regularly to help with the costs. Annie was practically fluent in English now and eager to play with her friends. Rosalie was relieved that her departure didn't dampen the young girl's spirits too much, even though Annie probably didn't fully understand what was happening at her age and that she might not see Rosalie for a long, long time, if ever again.
Rosalie returned to camp some hours later to find Susan and John packing things up in the wagon they had recently purchased. With more people came more belongings, and if they wanted to transport their supplies properly, they needed something to carry it all. It would be interesting to travel with a wagon as they hadn't before… but they would make it work even if there was a learning curve.
Rosalie hitched Blitz near the other horses, blinking as she realized Boadicea was nowhere to be found.
Was Arthur not here? He didn't come back last night, but he had been disappearing a lot recently, so she didn't think much of it. Still, it was strange for him not to be back by now. It wasn't like him to be gone for multiple days without popping in here and there.
Rosalie walked over to the wagon where Susan and John were loading their belongings, glancing around for any sign of Arthur. There was no sign of him, just Susan and John in their barren camp, as most of their things had already been packed into the wagon for them to leave tomorrow.
John grunted and lifted a crate onto the back of the wagon. It landed with a great thump, the wood groaning underneath the sudden weight of the crate, but it held it just the same as John pushed it deeper inside the bed, packing it in with their other supplies. Once he was satisfied with its placement, he huffed and wiped the back of his face with his sleeve, leaning against the side of the wagon.
"Hey," Rosalie greeted, coming over to him. She crossed her arms and gave the full wagon bed a nod of approval. "Wow, we've got most of it packed already."
John nodded, "Yeah, Miss Grimshaw has got me workin' like a dog since this mornin'. She said I needa' be useful while you, Dutch n' Hosea were doin' business with your grandfather." He huffed, wiping his face again. "Man, am I tired…"
Rosalie gave him an apologetic smile and patted his shoulder. "Sorry, kid."
John shrugged. "Don't matter. At least it's almost done now. Then we're on the road! It'll be fun! All travelin' doin' fun, cool stuff! Now there's nothin' bad or scary hangin' over our heads." He said, flashing her a smile. His giddiness was almost contagious.
Susan snorted, coming over to the wagon with a basket of rags. "If you think we're not gonna run into any more trouble ever, then I have some devastating news for you, boy." She chided, setting the basket on the edge of the wagon bed.
John gave Susan a look of confusion. He didn't know what she meant by that.
Rosalie waved Susan off, hoping that the older lady understood it wasn't a conversation she wanted to have right now. The last thing she wanted to think about was any imminent danger. Instead, she took another glance around camp, her eyes skimming the spots where Arthur usually lounged.
"Has he come back at all?" Rosalie asked.
"Arthur?" John asked. He shook his head. "Nah, he ain't been here since last night when he got all mad, stompin' his feet."
"I reckon he's at a saloon," Susan said, pushing the basket of rags deeper into the wagon bed. "Probably drunk as a skunk over the subject of stayin' here with Mary, or about leavin' her." She said.
"Why do you think it has something to do with Mary?" Rosalie asked, wondering where Susan got that idea from.
Susan scoffed. "I know you ain't that dumb, girl. He was upset because us leavin' makes things complicated with Mary Gillis. If he ain't back now, he's either drunk in some saloon, dead in a ditch, or off hanging with Mary."
Rosalie rolled her eyes at the condescending tone. "Okay, well, has anyone been to check on him?" She asked.
"Arthur is a grown man. He may not act like it sometimes, but he is." Susan said, dusting her hands off. "So no. No one has been to check on him. He can take care of himself."
Rosalie scrunched up her face. She didn't like that response.
"I'll be back then," Rosalie said, turning on her heel to head over to her horse.
She just got back, but it wasn't as though they would leave without Arthur. If they wanted to leave soon, they needed to find him one way or another.
Susan scoffed and crossed her arms. "You're really gonna go on a wild goose chase for that boy?!" She called with a raised brow.
Rosalie rolled her eyes as she pulled herself into the saddle. "Yes, I'm gonna go find him! Someone has to help the poor bastard!" she called back, turning Blitz around and heading over the hills, back into the city.
Rosalie had gone through many saloons, and spent way too much time questioning drunk patrons, but she still had no idea where Arthur was.
Susan was right about it being a wild goose chase—she had checked at least half of the city, but there was no sign of him anywhere. She was beginning to wonder if he really was dead in a ditch somewhere and she would have to bury the poor fool.
So, the only thing Rosalie could think of was to head to the library and sift through the city directory for Mary Gillis since she didn't know where she lived. It was a pain sorting through the entire population of New Orleans, and it was even more unhelpful when she realized that Mary would not be listed as a property owner as she wasn't a man. So, she had to settle for the only man with the last name Gillis owning a house outside of the city.
Rosalie only hoped her visit to Mary wouldn't get her shot by Mr. Gillis. And that it was the right Gillis family.
Rosalie tore the page with the address out of the book and saddled herself atop Blitz, riding him outside of the city. It didn't take long for her to arrive, but she wasn't expecting the shabby little farmhouse with a small barn in the back to be where Mary lived.
Unsure, Rosalie slowed Blitz into a trot, looking down at the address in her hand and then to the small mailbox in front of the house. She made a face at the realization that the addresses matched, stuffing the paper into her pocket.
"So this is where she lives, huh…?" Rosalie said under her breath as she stopped Blitz in the front yard, wide, open fields of wheat surrounding them. She slid off the saddle, her boots hitting the dirt with a thump. Patting Blitz on the neck as she walked past, she made her way to the deck, the floorboards old and gray, in desperate need of stain.
Rosalie blinked at the rather dreary sight of the place, but continued up a couple of steps till she stood in front of the door.
She couldn't believe she was coming to Mary of all people for help. It made her feel so stupid, but she was desperate at this point. She had already gone through half of the city's saloons… besides, it was possible he was with Mary anyway and her search would stop here.
Rosalie knocked on the door. She looked off to the side and placed her hands on her hips, squinting under her hat in the distance at some of the cattle that grazed the fields. A light breeze blew through her hair and hit the back of her neck, cooling her off a bit.
There was some shuffling from inside, when the door opened. Rosalie glanced over, blinking at the sight of a teary-eyed, red-faced Mary, her big, brown doe eyes swollen. Her hair which was usually pulled back into a neat plait or pinned bun was a mess, strands frizzy and sticking out in different directions.
Mary's eyes widened at the sight of her. There was an evident shock, almost as though she had been expecting to see someone else who most definitely was not Rosalie.
"Oh, I-I…" Mary stuttered, her voice hoarse from her crying. "Can I help you?" She asked.
"Um…" Rosalie began. Her eyes skidded across Mary's mess of an appearance, feeling terribly awkward for intruding on whatever had her so upset. "I was just wondering if you've seen Arthur? He didn't come back last night and no one has seen him all day. We're getting worried."
Mary stiffened, her eyes welling with tears. She fished a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes, avoiding Rosalie's gaze. "Well, I… I can't say I've seen him since last night. I don't imagine you'll be seein' him around me anytime soon. We… we ain't together no more." She explained.
Rosalie took a step back, stunned. "Not together?"
Mary's lower lip trembled. "No. I… well, it seems he loves you all too much. More than he loves me I reckon." She let out a breathy laugh as though she couldn't believe the situation she landed herself in. "Once he told me you all were leavin'... I asked him to stay, but he said he couldn't do it. Wouldn't do it, even."
To say Rosalie was shocked was an understatement. Arthur said he wouldn't leave the gang to stay with Mary? Considering how smitten he had been with her since they arrived in New Orleans, she thought if push came to shove, he would bend over backward for Mary Gillis.
It seemed when it came down to the gang or her, Arthur knew where his priorities lay—and they weren't with Mary.
Mary sniffed, tears running down her face. "So, when he told me that, I said our engagement was off. I'd take him back if he told me he'd leave that life, and settle down with me somewhere… even if it wasn't here… but he said no. And… well… I'm sure you can guess what happened from there. I don't know where he went after that. He rode off towards town I think." She said with a shaky voice.
While Rosalie knew she should be happy, celebrating even that Mary was out of the picture now… she only felt… sad.
Sad for Mary, and sad for Arthur, as she knew the poor bastard was probably drunk in a saloon somewhere if he wasn't passed out in a field while trying to get back to camp.
Rosalie sighed and rubbed a hand against her face. "Well, I'm sorry to hear that."
"Are you?" Mary asked, raising a brow. Her question wasn't asked in a mean way, but she was genuinely asking. "I ain't blind. I know you like him."
Rosalie turned red, caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She shook her head and looked away, scuffing her boot against the deck. "Well, that doesn't really matter—"
Mary scoffed and waved Rosalie off. "I don't know. I ain't know many who would ride on out here or come lookin' for a man they're just friends with. Frankly… I don't really care, since Arthur and I… there ain't any hope for us, unless I decide that livin' rough is for me, or he wants to leave that life of thievin' and robbin'..."
She looked at Rosalie with her big, brown watery eyes again. "Just find him for me, would you? And… make sure he's okay. He… Oh, I don't know. He and I may not be right together, but I still love him."
Rosalie blinked, surprised that Mary had requested such a thing from her, especially knowing that Rosalie had feelings for him. She could see how genuine Mary was in asking, and she could only imagine how hard it was for Mary to make such a request. There wasn't any reason for Rosalie to be mean about it.
Rosalie nodded, backing up a few paces toward her horse. "Alright. I will," she said, looking at Mary before turning around and pulling herself into the saddle.
Rosalie glanced back at Mary, the girl standing in the doorway of her shabby, partially rundown farmhouse, before turning Blitz towards town and kicking him into a trot with a quiet yip. She was off to find Arthur in whatever drunken slump he was in currently.
A/N:
Hellooooo! Reminder that I have a discord for this fic!
/TYGVHKrFe6
