#odd_wips

[oddestly]

WIP Wednesday

Even as exhausted as she was, her mind couldn't help but dwell on what Arthur had said, on the sketch of a life he'd described. The occasional job, like the one's she'd seen already, perhaps. Days in the sunlight, learning to shoot, riding the dusty roads. Chores— hard chores, backbreaking work, sure, but surrounded by people she was growing fond of.

It certainly wasn't the life she dreamed of. It wasn't anywhere close to a 'perfect' life, whatever that meant, if that was even something tangible to strive for. It just felt… right. For this moment, for this season, it fit. Like the first cold day of a new spring, a reminder of the cold and the storm, still part of it, but passing.

She slept that night exactly where she wanted to be, knowing she was where she needed to be.

[oddestly]

WIP Wednesday

It was several days later by the time Arthur stormed back into camp, deep into the evening, and he threw his recent hunt down onto Pearson's table so hard the whole thing rattled. Oftentimes he would stay and help butcher whatever it was he'd brought in, but this time he dumped it, picked up a bottle of whiskey, and stalked off without even washing off the red stain from his gloves.

Karen shot Lori a distinctly 'I told you so' look from over her plate.

Like a territorial animal, Arthur chased off everyone else from around the distant scout fire, and threw himself down onto the furs, glowering at anyone he deemed too close.

Lori wasn't sure if it was kindness or bravery that led her to him. Maybe it was both.

"Mr. Morgan," she greeted softly, but despite the kindness in her tone, she saw him flinch.

"What d'you want?" he growled.

"Have you eaten?"

His eyes snapped up to meet hers, nearly searing in their anger.

"I don't need you motherin' me," he huffed. "Jus' leave me be, go dote on someone else."

Lori took a deep breath, turned on her heel and walked away.

Arthur ignored the sick sinking feeling in his gut, covering it with a long swing of whiskey to burn it away. He'd told her to, after all. She just listened for once. What more could he expect? He was good at pushing people away.

[oddestly]

WIP Wednesday

"So are all you quick-draw gunslinger sorts just naturally good at this, or did you have to spend hours practicing too?" she asked.

"Spent most my life practicin' one way or another," Arthur replied.

"I suppose gunfights count as practice?"

"Ain't nothin' quite like fearin' for your life to teach ya t' aim an' aim well," he agreed. "Weren't always so dangerous, spent a lotta time doin' things like this, back when the gang was smaller. Usually turned into a competition though."

"Is that where your reputation came from?"

"Oh I don' think I wanna know what reputation you're talkin' about," Arthur said warily, but there was an amused glint in his eyes.

Lori laughed, "That you're the best shot, Mr. Morgan. I've already seen your reputation for being grumpy first-hand."

She looked over at him when she didn't hear any sort of humored response, worried she'd said something that upset him, but found him looking off in the distance pensively.

"Mr. Morgan?" she queried hesitantly, startling him from his thoughts.

"Hm? Ah, sorry, miss, I was… miles away. You wanna keep goin'? Plenty of daylight left."

"If there's nothing else that might need your attention, I don't want to keep you," Lori said, gesturing vaguely in the direction he'd been looking so intently.

"It ain't urgent," Arthur brushed her off with a wave of his hand. "Honestly wouldn't mind putting it off if you wanna keep on."

[oddestly]

WIP Wednesday!

Arthur sighed so heavily she worried for his lungs for a moment, fearing they may spill out onto the ground by her feet with the force of his dejection.

"My foul moods are so distinct you c'n categorize 'em then, Miss Moore?" he asked.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be so presumptuous."

"Ain't presumin' too much if you're right," he chuckled once, then nodded. "There was another one, damn fool tried to run, sent me on some wild chase 'nd then a goddamn treasure hunt just to get his debt back. Least he actually had the money."

"Have I been too bold already, or can I ask you a question?" Lori asked as Arthur stood and meandered toward the table nearby, taking a bite of the stew as he went.

He spread out a hand toward one of the other seats as an answer, and she sat slowly, leaning against the surface toward him.

"Why do you do those jobs if you hate the work? Surely someone who's been in the gang for so long, someone Dutch trusts so much, has the freedom to choose which jobs he takes."

"'Course I do, but it ain't so simple as picking and choosing which ones I like," Arthur said, tearing one of the pieces of bread in half and soaking it in the hearty broth. "We do what needs done. It's about keepin' them safe, keepin' them armed, protected. Keepin' 'em all fed." He gestured with the bread before popping into his mouth and chewing.

"Couldn't someone else go then?" Lori pressed after he swallowed that bite.

"None of us are over fond of what Strauss does, no one wants any part of it when it comes back to bite us n'the ass. Strauss knows I get the job done, and that's more important than whether I dislike it. At this point it's… I dunno, habit more'n anything," he shrugged. "It's always been me cause I'm big and mean and get results when people try holdin' out on us."

"Well you're more than that, but I suppose you are that too," Lori mused, leaning back up straight and tapping her fingernails on the wood as she looked over toward where Strauss' table stood.

[oddestly]

WIP Wednesday!

"Let's see how ya do, have at 'em whenever you're ready." Arthur held the gun out to her again with one hand, the other waving toward the bottles. "Remember, it ain't a test, and I ain't no judge."

Lori swallowed back the nerves she felt crawling up her throat and tucked the repeater up against her shoulder. She didn't like shooting; she'd found it easy to learn, but hard to get used to. Target practice was one thing, plinking bottles off of Sadie's fence for fun and watching the scattered shards decorate the snow like a mosaic. But this… this was different. With this gun in her hands, and Arthur standing beside her, the realization of what she might have to do with it settled heavy in the back of her mind. She had no desire to be a hunter - of men or otherwise. But she knew it might be asked of her someday.

Crack!

The sound of the gunshot was followed by that of splintering wood, not shattering glass.

Lori jerked the lever of the repeater down, hearing the chime of the spent shell as it bounced off the dirt by her feet.

Snapping the lever back up to bring the next round into place, she focused.

Crack!

Another bullet dug its way into the wood behind the bottles.

Another round in the chamber.

Crack!

This time, as the shot echoed off the hills, it was accompanied by the sharp scatter of glass and Lori let out the breath she had held in a triumphant huff.

Arthur matched her grin with a smile of his own when she looked up at him.

"Good!" he said, then nodded his head back toward her targets, arms crossed comfortably over his chest. "Ya got four more shots."

In quick succession, Lori missed the next three, but managed to solidly nail another bottle on the last.

"Well…" she sighed, lowering the gun. "That left much to be desired, didn't it?"

"We'll make a marksman of you soon enough," Arthur disagreed. He approached her, unfolding her arms and holding his hands out. "If I may?"

[oddestly]

In an effort to put myself out there more and share more of my work, I'm going to be posting little blurbs of A Doe-Eyed Love on Wednesdays!

They will likely be from whatever I happen to be working on at the exact moment my reminder alarm goes off, with little to no thought or editing, so the likelihood of any of them remaining exactly the same once the chapter is actually posted is slim to none, knowing my editing style. But I think it will be fun to see the bones before they're done!

Be on the lookout for coming "WIP Wednesday" posts!