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Charles slowly walked with ease through the camp. The weather was pleasant, way better than it used to be weeks ago. Well, maybe it was a little bit too warm but after their camp in Colter it felt like heaven on Earth. It was a warm, nice evening that made you want to just take a moment to appreciate the beauty of the setting sun as the time slowly dragged by.
Charles took a moment to stop by the river and take a look at the sky painted in the most beautiful shades of red, orange and yellow. The air was almost shining with gold due to the sun rays in the air. He could hear Tilly talking to Arthur in the back.
“Arthur, you can tell me,” the girl spoke softly, sitting on one of the old boxes they had.
“I don't ‘now ‘bout it,” the man sighed in response rubbing his chin. “I ain't sure.”
“You can always talk to us if you need, you know that?” Tilly slightly shifted her weight and gently put her petite hand over Arthur's one.
“Fine,” the man grumbled as he lightly squeezed the girl's hand.
“Things have been… tough lately,” Arthur sighed, seeming uncomfortable to speak. “The Blackwater, Pinkertons and the O'Driscoll boys… I don't even know anymore if I'm doing the right thing,” he took off his hat. “I am a bad man, Tilly, a bad man,” Arthur put his head between his hands resting his elbows on his knees. “A bad man…”
“Oh, Arthur,” the girl put her hand over her brother’s shoulder. “You ain't a bad man,” she squeezed him lightly. “Would a bad man protect us like you do, Arthur?” The man stayed silent. “I know you have a very big heart and a very kind soul, Arthur. You ain't no bad man.”
They stayed still just like that: Tilly's hand on Arthur's shoulder with his head between his hands.
“I wish you were right.”
Charles just stood there, listening. He could feel his heart being squeezed by a cold, merciless hand that made him hold his breath. Did Arthur… really thought that of himself. Charles could swear: Arthur Morgan was the kindest man he knew. Yes, he was an outlaw. Yes, he robbed banks and killed some folks. But Arthur never had anything against black people. Never had anything against indians. Arthur always treated women the right way, not like the most men Charles knew. No, indeed Arthur Morgan had a big heart and a kind soul.
Charles just stood there, watching Arthur slowly raise his head and put his hat back.
“Thank you, Tilly,” he looked at the girl with warmth in his eyes. He loved her just like a brother loved his sister. And then the man spotted Charles.
Charles, meanwhile, tried to smile. It wasn't very sincere since he had a gut wrenching feeling in his stomach right now but he still tried.
Arthur blinked.
“Hey Charles,” he said like he always used to do. “How are ya?”
The man walked over to Arthur just not to shout from a distance. “Good,” he lied. Charles wanted to talk to him.
It seemed like Tilly had some supernatural mind-reading power since the girl got up from the box and left with some excuse about mending clothes.
“Miss Grimshaw asked me to do this twice already,” she chirped and walked away with ease.
“Arthur, I…” Charles tried to speak but the words just didn't come out. “I'm sorry.”
Arthur genuinely looked confused. He truly didn't understand what Charles was apologizing for. “What do ya mean?”
“I heard what you were talking about with Tilly,” the man could feel a wave of shame crush over him, making him feel like a traitor.
“Oh,” Arthur let a barely audible gasp out.
“I just wanted to say: she's right, you ain't a bad man. In fact, you are the kindest man I know. Yes, you are an outlaw. Yes, you robbed banks and killed some folks. But you never had anything against black people. Never had anything against indians. You always treat women the right way, not like most men I know. No, indeed Arthur Morgan, you have a big heart and a kind soul." Charles finished his speech and paused to catch his breath.
Arthur just stood there, speechless. He looked at Charles with his blue eyes that made him forget that the rest of the world existed. Those blue eyes that reminded him of a clear sky on a sunny day. Those blue eyes that reminded him of the purest waterfall ever to exist. Those eyes he was ready to give his life for. Those eyes…
“I…” Arthur rasped. Charles had to come back to the real world from his daydreaming journey.
“You are so kind to me, Charles, so kind,” the man looked him dead in the eyes. “I appreciate it,” Arthur smiled. Not the type of smile he'd put on when he was listening to Dutch's plan or what he used when he was mocking John. The type of smile he had when he was talking to Hosea or having a drink with Lenny or Sean. The real kind of smile. Charles wished he had a camera with him to picture this moment for the rest of his life.
“I really do.”
And since that moment Charles knew: he was so fucked up.