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Arthur trotted up along the hill that he came to enjoy whenever he had a moment to get away from camp. Before, the path was just any ordinary path that he tends to take whenever he wanted to catch fish for dinner or to simply clean himself off at the nearby river. A couple weeks ago, the same old ordinary path suddenly became his favorite to take due to a small cabin located at the very top of the hill. He just so happened to have met a woman who became a widow, left alone in the woods. Arthur noted her determination in staying in the woods for her dead husband, whom she finished burying a week prior to when he found her weeping by the grave. Feeling a sense of pity for the widow, he offered to show her how to hunt and take advantage of what mother nature has to offer. It was surprising to Arthur just how quickly the widow adapted his survival lessons. A city woman, born into wealth, was appearing to be a natural survivor.
The sound of his large white Ardennes horse snorting shook Arthur out of his deep thoughts and he noticed the cabin was finally in view. He rode his horse to the shed and got down from the saddle. Once his boots hit the ground, a sudden knot formed in the pit of his stomach. He inhaled deeply and then exhaled, calming himself. He could not understand why the sudden feeling of nervousness came to him. Shaking it off, he gave his horse a gentle pat and turned towards the cabin. The wooden stairs creaked under his boots with every step he took. Once he was at the doorstep, he knocked on the door and then stepped back, taking his hat off. He wiped the bead of sweat the was sliding down his forehead and exhaled another sigh. The knot in his stomach got tighter and his heart began to race.
Relax, Morgan. What has gotten into you? You’ve visited her before – this ain’t nothing new.
Suddenly, the door slightly opened and in front of him stood the woman he had took a liking to visiting. She smiled at him and opened the door completely and took a step towards him, her green eyes filled with such light that made Arthur smile.
“Arthur,” Charlotte greeted. “I was not expecting you!”
His smile quickly faded, thinking he may have interrupted her day. Foolish Morgan.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother-.”
“Please, it’s no bother!” She stretched out her arms towards him and gave him a soft hug, one that Arthur hesitantly gave back by placing a hand on her back. “I’m glad to see you. I thought I wasn’t going to see you again, to tell you the truth.” Charlotte smiled and pulled back from the hug, still smiling up at the cowboy.
The last time Arthur passed by, he noticed how different Charlotte looked. She had more confidence to her and was more at ease rather than afraid and exhausted. He appreciated how she showed concern over his health, asking how he was holding up. Despite the decline of his health, he decided to be optimistic for her. “Me too…” Arthur cleared his throat, “I was able to get some free time and I…um… I thought to visit you.”
“Well, it’s sweet to know that I’m on your mind.”
Heat swelled in Arthur’s cheeks, giving them a shade of red. He was thankful that he grew out his beard a bit more than he normally does. Despite his beard covering his rose-colored cheeks, he put his hat back on, helping him cover them up a bit more. “I…um…well, yes. But not all the time – not that I don’t want to, I mean…” He stuttered, trying to find his bearing. God damn, words.
Charlotte laughed and shook her head. “I’m only teasing, Mr. Morgan. Why don’t you come in? I have a fresh pot of coffee if you’d like.” With a small nod, Arthur walked through the doorway, and he took a seat in the same spot as last time when Charlotte invited him in for leftover rabbit stew.
He watched Charlotte make her way to the countertop and reach for two mugs and set it down on the table in front of him. With another turn towards the countertop, Charlotte grabbed the coffee pot off the hot stove. “Be careful, it’s very hot. I think I accidentally left it on for too long.” She poured some coffee into the mugs and Arthur reached out to grab his mug, suddenly pulling back as his fingertips burned from the mug.
“You were not lying about it being hot.” Arthur chuckled, lightly blowing on his fingertips.
“I’m sorry. I was caught up in my writing that the coffee completely slipped my mind.”
“Writing?”
“Yes, I finally began to draft a story thanks to you.”
Arthur carefully pulled the hot mug towards him, raising a brow at her. “Thanks to me? Charlotte, I only gave you what you needed to live out here.”
“Exactly. You indirectly helped me start my writing. Before you, I was a mess. All I knew what to do was mourn Cal and find poisonous berries.” Charlotte took a seat across from him, and a small smile crept onto her lips as her eyes looked down at the steaming coffee. “I still know where they are, if you’re interested.”
Arthur chuckled and shook his head, pushing his hat back a bit to be able to look at her without the brim of his hat in the way. “That’s mighty kind of you,” He raised the mug to his lips and blew at it, trying to cool the coffee down. “What are you writing about? If you don’t mind me askin’.”
“Well,” Charlotte sighed, reaching to the side of the table, and opening a notebook that was filled with writing. “I’ve scrapped so many pages, but I like to think that I may finally be onto something.” She flipped through a couple of pages before turning the notebook around on the table and pushing it towards Arthur. “I’m writing about this naïve girl that eventually breaks through the barriers of the society she’s growing up in – becoming her own self, not just an image of what her parents expect her to be.”
Arthur pulled the notebook closer to him and he looked at her cursive writing that adorned the whole page. “Is this girl you?”
“Are you calling me naïve, Mr. Morgan?”
His eyes shot up from the writing to Charlotte, his mouth stuttering out an apology. “Oh no, I didn’t mean-.”
“Teasing, Mr. Morgan.”
Arthur stared at Charlotte for a moment before letting out a chuckle. “You enjoy teasing me, don’t you, Mrs. Balfour?”
Charlotte shrugged and leaned back into her chair, blowing into her mug before taking a small sip. “It’s rather entertaining.”
The two sat in silence, as Arthur flipped through the pages, carefully reading every sentence Charlotte wrote. There were some words crossed out, and small notes that she wrote to remind herself what to change and what to keep. There was no tension in the air, neither party feeling uncomfortable as the silence stayed over them. It was strange for Arthur to feel comfortable in the presence of a woman and not be speaking to her – a thought he wondered if Charlotte felt the same. After a couple moments longer, Arthur scoffed and closed the notebook.
“I believe you’ll be an award-winnin’ author in no time,” He praised, taking a sip from his mug.
“You really think that?”
“You have confidence in bein’ out here but no confidence as an author? Gotta change that attitude.” After another couple of sips, Arthur put down his mug and leaned back against his chair, spreading his legs a bit. “I ain’t got a doubt about you publishin’ these books. I enjoyed readin’ what you drew up now and I wish to read it when you finish it.”
“I’d love to send you a copy when that happens. Although it might take a couple of years for that day to come.” Charlotte smiled.
Hearing her say that suddenly made Arthur’s smile fade into a slight frown. He slowly crossed his arms across his chest and looked down at the wooden floor. That was an event he knew that would never happen. The tuberculosis was worsening every day, it would be only a matter of weeks before he fell dead. Dying – that was the reason as to why Arthur came to see Charlotte. He wanted to see her one more time, give a proper goodbye than the one they shared last time.
“Arthur, is everything alright?”
The cowboy broke his gaze from the floor and back to her. He stood up and motioned to the door with his hand. “Why don’t we sit outside for a moment?” He covered his mouth and stifled a cough that echoed in his chest. “Some fresh air will do good for my lungs.”
Without hesitation, Charlotte stood up from her chair and the two walked outside onto the porch, taking a seat on the bench. Arthur groaned as he sat down, a couple more coughs escaping his mouth. He began to hunch over, his coughing getting wetter and rougher. Charlotte placed one hand on his shoulder, holding him steady, while her other hand gently pats his back.
“It’s alright, Arthur.” She comforted, as his coughing fit slowly became silent. Arthur lifted his head and wiped the side of his mouth, finding blood covering his palm. He sighed and he cleaned his hand on his shirt, leaning against the bench.
Looking up at the clear sky, Arthur couldn’t help but shake his head. He turned towards her and saw that she was looking at him with concern. She was biting the corner of her bottom lip, eyebrows furrowed together in worry.
Despite her gaze at him, he continued, “I want to give you something of mine.”
He reached into his satchel that was slung around his chest the whole time and he pulled out a small jar that contained a bitterroot flower inside. It was neatly planted in the soil inside of the jar, the bitterroot’s pink color being prominent. He gave it to Charlotte who looked at it for a moment before returning her gaze back to him.
“What is this?”
“It’s a flower that you can’t find in these parts. They only grown out west, in parts of California and Oregon. Its real name is Lewisia somethin’ but they’re known as cliff maids.”
Looking back at the flower, Charlotte turned the jar around a bit to get a fuller view of the flower inside. “It’s beautiful.”
“My ma always liked it.” Arthur continued after watching her observe the flower a bit more. “I began to see it as a good luck charm when she passed.”
“Would you say it’s been an effective charm?”
Arthur saw the little smile on her lips, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “I suppose it has. Whenever I’m out west, I make sure to grab some so I can have it next to my bed. The jar helps preserve it.”
“I see. The meaning behind it is lovely.”
“Yeah. I haven’t been able to head back out to the west so…that’s the last one I have.”
Charlotte turned to him; a smile no longer visible. “Then why are you giving it to me? This is tied to your mother’s memories.” She began to give him back the jar, but Arthur’s hands stopped her.
“It would make me happy if you had something of mine.” Arthur stared at his hands that held her small ones. “I don’t know how much longer the flower will last, but at least you know where to find them, if you ever want to pick them.”
“Arthur…this is starting to sound like a goodbye as in forever.”
The two looked at each other. Arthur felt his heart thumping against his chest as Charlotte looked at him, her eyes starting to appear glassy. He breathed out slowly and closed his eyes, trying to calm his racing mind.
“This is goodbye forever.” He opened his eyes and noticed a tear fell from Charlotte’s eye. Despite it being difficult to say out loud to her, he pushed himself. “I’m dyin’. Probably only have a few weeks left.”
“How long have you been sick?”
He shrugged, noticing that he never noted when he got his diagnoses. “I never really realized how long it’s been since the doc told me the news.”
“Isn’t there treatment? I can help you get treatment from somewhere else if needed, my family has money, I can always reach out-.”
“Reach out to your family to pay for an outlaw’s treatment of TB? Something the doc told me don’t exist?” Arthur shook his head and released her hands. “Let’s not make up a fairy tale here and stick with the reality of the situation.”
After noticing Charlotte did not give a response, he looked at her to see that her expression changed from worry to a bit of shock.
Ah, shit. Me and my damn mouth…
“Outlaw?” Charlotte asked.
In that moment, Arthur wanted to get up and leave but his conscious forced him to stay in his seat, noting how kind and generous she has been to him. Then again, she had no idea he was an outlaw before. Maybe her thoughts on him changed, maybe he really did overstay his welcome. On the other hand, he could just explain – not too much though. Afterall, he’ll be dead soon and he’s been focused on getting people from the gang out as safely as possible rather than robbing trains and stagecoaches.
“Charlotte, I’m a wanted man for…many crimes I did over the years. I run with some folk but um…I think that’s all comin’ to an end.”
“Why is that?”
Arthur scratched his temple, knee slightly jumping as he thought back on his life. “Well, there’s the fact that I’m dyin’. The gang is breaking, the man I saw as a father is going insane – no longer trust me. Hell, he even seemed to replace me with some…swine that been runnin’ with us for only six months…” With each reason he listed, Arthur felt anger building up inside of him and he made a tight fist. “Should I keep on?”
“N-no,” Charlotte shakily answered. She placed the flower jar in her lap, her thumb tracing the brim of the jar’s lid. She took in a deep breath to calm her nerves. She had so many questions to ask the man right beside her – who turned out to be an outlaw. “I just have one question.”
Arthur hummed in response, and she finally gathered the courage to look up at his blue eyes that appeared bloodshot mainly because of his earlier coughing fit.
“Why help me out like this?”
A chuckle from him confused Charlotte. She watched as he took off his hat and placed it beside him.
“I actually have somethin’ funny to tell ya about that.” He crossed his arms, his eyes looking out at the view of the woods in front of him. “One day when I was traveling around, I bumped into this feller that escaped from prison. He had the whole prisoner getup, shackles, everythin’. He begged me to shoot the shackles off his feet and I did. After, he gave me a house robbery tip – don’t know why he decided to give me that information since we did not know each other.”
“Did you decide to do the robbery?”
“The location was too far from where camp was, but I did get curious. He said the house belonged to a couple, might have a lot of money stashed due to the clothes on their back. So, one night, after everybody was asleep at camp, I got on Akela,” Arthur pointed to his horse that was grazing on the grass not far from them. “And headed out to the location of the house.”
“When you reached the house, was the man right?”
“It may come to a surprise that I didn’t rob it.”
“How come?”
“Didn’t really seem like much was in there.” Arthur scratched at his beard. “It also turned out to be this cabin.”
Charlotte leaned back in shock. “What? You’ve been here before? I never saw you around here.”
“It was late at night, and all lights were out.” He sighed deeply, his brows furrowing together. “I had no urge to go snooping inside. I just left, only to come back one day and I ended up bumping into you.” He turned to her, and he finally took notice of the bit of space that was created between them. He felt his heart drop slightly at the space – a feeling he was not expecting to overcome him.
“I…I don’t know what to say,” Charlotte admitted. “You’re an outlaw, you almost robbed my house…yet you’ve been helping me these past couple of days. I want to understand why.”
“I got TB beating a man to death…over some damn money. Money that was not even enough to keep the gang afloat. I turned a woman into a widow and left a kid with no father all because I thought I was helping my own people. When I saw the widow out in the streets, selling herself to men and the boy in the mines I just knew I made a big mistake.”
“Did you help them?”
“Yeah. I got them to leave Annesburg and gave them money – enough to start a new life far away. After that, I have noticed that I been helpin’ folk who need it.”
“You’ve been seeking redemption after your diagnoses then.”
Arthur quickly glanced at her, that thought never coming to him. He opened his mouth and then closed it when he realized he had no words to rebuttal that. He shook his head, “I guess you’re right.”
Charlotte gently laid a hand on top of his on his lap. “Despite you being an outlaw…you’re a good man.”
“I only gave ya a snip of my story. Like I said last time…you don’t really know me.”
“And like I said last time, I know enough.”
Arthur locked eyes with her and saw a couple of tears slide down her cheek. He wiped them away and lingered his hand on her cheek for a bit before pulling back.
“Look, you have been very kind to me. I feel happy to have met you and helped you. You are going to be just fine, don’t forget what I taught you.”
He put his hat back on, stood up from the bench and walked towards the steps. A sudden pull on his left arm made him stumble back a bit and he was surprised when he realized that Charlotte managed to yank him into a hug. She pressed her face against his chest, her arms wrapped tightly around his wide back, barely able to completely hug him. Arthur stood frozen, in shock from the hug, but then responded by fully wrapping his arms around her small frame.
“Thank you for everything.” She said against his chest. A small amount of weight pressed on top of her head let her know that Arthur took her word to heart as his beard lightly scratched her forehead.
“Do me a favor?” Arthur asked, pulling back from the hug a bit.
“Yes?”
“You take care of that flower for me.”
Charlotte pulled back her hand that was gripping onto the flower jar and held it in between them. “Of course.”
They both smiled at each other before hugging once more, the embrace much tighter. When they broke apart, Arthur made his way back to his horse, Charlotte following close behind. She watched as the cowboy pulled himself up onto the saddle and got himself situated. She reached her free hand up to him which Arthur took. Rough calloused hand gripped her soft hand and she sighed sadly, knowing this would be the last touch from somebody she saw as a dear friend.
“You be safe, Arthur.”
His thumb rubbed the back of her hand, and he gave her a squeeze. “You as well, Charlotte.”
Despite not wanting to let go, Arthur released her hand, and gripped the reins. Tipping his hat to her, he smiled one last time at her and then clicked his tongue, commanding Akela to begin the ride back to camp. When he rode down the hill and out of view, Charlotte looked down at the flower jar with sadness. She brought it up to her chest and sighed heavily, looking out into the distance where he once was riding.
“You’re a good man, Arthur Morgan.” She said before turning back to her cabin and closing the door behind her.