Chapter 5
As Charlotte crested the hill her cabin sat on, she looked around for any sign of the stranger still lingering. When she saw nothing to indicate that the stranger was still there, she felt disappointment wash over her. She told herself that this is what she was expecting, sighed, and continued walking.
Charlotte opened the door and saw, to her surprise, that the stranger was standing, leaning her weight gently against the table. She looked better than when Charlotte had left her, although not by much. Her face wasn’t quite so deathly pale anymore and her breaths came easier.
“You’re awake,” Charlotte exclaimed, happily.
“Yes,” the stranger raised her gaze to meet Charlotte’s, “Thank you. For caring for me. I don’t know what came over me.”
“You’re sick,” Charlotte told the stranger, despite the fact that she undoubtedly already knew that, “I’m just glad I was here to help.”
The stranger’s eyes glanced away from hers for a brief second before returning and stating, “My name’s Arthur.”
Charlotte thought that the stranger, Arthur, was making a poor attempt at trying to distract her from conversations about her illness, but decided that she wouldn't push. For now. Deep down, Charlotte really did want to know what was wrong with her. If it was only a simple illness, then why would Arthur be so adamant on not discussing it?
“That’s hardly a typical name for a lady,” Charlotte spoke without thinking.
As soon as she said it, Charlotte raised a hand to her mouth, embarrassed. She thought the stress of the day must be getting to her, saying something so rude. She hoped that Arthur wouldn’t be offended.
Arthur laughed, “My daddy always wanted a son.”
Charlotte smiled and let out a soft laugh in response, relieved that she wasn’t displeased with her words.
“It’s a lovely name,” Charlotte reassured her, “It fits you.”
“I’m glad you approve,” Arthur teased.
Charlotte felt her cheeks grow warm and her smile grow wider. Arthur must have been feeling better, if she felt well enough to taunt Charlotte like this.
“I’m glad you’re awake,” Charlotte began, “I must admit that I have some good news to tell you.”
Arthur nodded at her to continue.
“Thanks to your teachings,” Charlotte couldn’t help but to thank her once more, “I was successful in my efforts to become a hunter.”
Charlotte hoped that Arthur had read her letter and knew of her plans beforehand, though she didn’t want to ask, as to avoid any potential embarrassment if Arthur was indeed illiterate. She hoped Arthur had taken her money, she was certain that Arthur needed it more than her.
“You done good,” Arthur smiled at Charlotte, making her stomach flip, before continuing, “What did you shoot?”
“A doe,” Charlotte told her, “It was far too much for me to carry so I had to leave it. Hopefully no scavengers get it before I make it back with a wheelbarrow.”
As much as she did enjoy talking to Arthur, there was a small thought in the back of her mind that every second spent talking was another second something could find the deer.
“Why don’t I help you?” Arthur offered.
“Oh, no,” Charlotte objected, “There’s no need, I can handle it. You should rest, don’t strain yourself for me.”
Arthur shook her head, “It’s no trouble.”
With that, Arthur started walking, silencing any protests Charlotte might have made. When they were both outside, Arthur brought her fingers to her lips and whistled.
“We can carry the deer back on my horse, it’ll be easier,” She said in explanation.
After waiting for a moment, the dapple grey Thoroughbred Charlotte saw before came trotting out of the woods. Charlotte thought that it was very impressive that Arthur had trained her horse to respond to her so quickly and efficiently. Charlotte and Cal had a horse, but it was killed in the attack that had killed Cal. She was a Tennessee Walker aptly named Chestnut, after the color of her coat, that Charlotte had had for many years. Charlotte missed her, while she was not nearly as well trained as Arthur’s, she was a reliable horse. Charlotte also missed the ease of traveling on horseback. There was no way she could make it to the nearest town on foot, it was simply too far. Without a horse to carry her, she was stranded. Although, now that she could hunt for herself, Charlotte wasn’t nearly as worried.
Arthur walked up to her horse and pet her nose gently before putting one foot in a stirrup and swinging herself up into the saddle. The horse was large and sturdy, much like Arthur herself, and Charlotte was wondering how she would climb up behind Arthur without making a fool of herself when Arthur reached down and pulled her up. Charlotte was surprised at how easy Arthur made it look. Charlotte had to struggle to drag Arthur but Arthur was able to lift her with ease. As she settled behind Arthur, she felt her cheeks warm once more.
“Thank you,” Charlotte deliberated a moment before reaching out and gently gripping the stranger’s shoulders, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.
As if sensing her reluctance, Arthur said, “Hold on tight,” and gently urged the horse into a trot.
When the horse took off, Charlotte instinctively held Arthur tighter, startling a laugh out of her. Arthur felt sturdy and warm under her hands, and Charlotte thought of the muscle she must be hiding under her clothes to be able to lift her so easily. Charlotte’s cheeks were redder than ever, and she was glad that Arthur couldn’t see.
“Do you not have a horse?” Arthur questioned her after Charlotte directed her to return to their previous hunting spot.
“No,” Charlotte responded, glumly, “Well, I did. But I’m afraid she’s dead now.”
“I’m sorry.”
“She was a good horse and now I have no way to get into town.” Charlotte told her, “Not that I want to leave. But, going into town for supplies could be helpful. Maybe I could buy a fishing rod. Or seeds to plant a garden.”
“Mn,” Arthur hummed in agreement.
“This is a fine horse you have here,” Charlotte continued, hoping to find a topic that Arthur was more willing to talk about, “Very well trained.”
“She was wild, it took me a while to break her,” Arthur explained, “But she’s a good horse, ain’t you girl.”
With that, Arthur leaned forwards and gently brushed her hand against the horse's mane. In response, the horse gave a soft wicker.
“That’s very impressive, to tame a wild horse like that. She seems so calm now,” Charlotte was shocked, yet again, by the skills Arthur possessed, “Does she have a name?”
Arthur took a moment to respond, “Cactus.”
“A fine name for a fine horse.”
Arthur only hummed in agreement once more. Charlotte wondered if she still felt sick and if that was why she was less talkative than usual. Whatever the reason, she decided to let Arthur have her silence until they came upon the hunting area. Charlotte pointed towards the clearing where she had left the deer, and Arthur deftly steered Cactus wherever she pointed.
When they came up to the deer, Arthur whistled, “You caught yourself a good one. That’ll keep you fed for a while.”
Charlotte hummed in agreement and slid off the horse, watching as Arthur stepped down as well. She walked over to the deer and peered at it, as if searching for something. Then, she reached down, grabbed the deer, and swung it over her shoulders.
Charlotte was shocked with the ease at which Arthur lifted the deer, even when she was recovering from a spell of illness. Arthur showed no visible struggles carrying the deer and depositing it on the back of her horse. Charlotte felt her stomach tighten as she thought of how easily Arthur could pick her up. Daydreams of Arthur lifting her up and pressing her against a wall filled her brain before she managed to clear her head.
Arthur had tied the deer to the back of the horse while Charlotte had been daydreaming, and she was looking at her, not saying anything.
“Ah,” Charlotte exclaimed, feeling embarrassed and hoping that she hadn’t been silent for too long, “Thank you.”
She tried to think of anything rational to say, but her thoughts were still full of Arthur. She felt her cheeks heat and turned to start walking, “I really can’t thank you enough. I had no idea what it would mean to live away from cities. I lived my entire life in the city. Cal and I were out of our depth from the moment we arrived. For a long time, I thought it was hopeless. You showed me differently. Without you, I don’t know what I would’ve done.”
Arthur sighed and grabbed the reigns of Cactus, following after her, “I couldn’t just let you starve, now could I? You managed to catch on quick though. All it took was a little advice and you managed all right.”
“Don’t undersell yourself,” Charlotte countered, “You did manage to shoot that rat, after all.”
Arthur chuckled, “That’s nothing. When you’ve been shooting for as long as I have, you learn some tricks. You, ma’am, managed to shoot a deer on her first try.”
“It was hardly my first try. I’ve been hunting unsuccessfully since Cal and I arrived here.”
“Your first try with better form, then,” Arthur amended, “Don’t undersell yourself.”
Charlotte chuckled at her own words being thrown back at her, “I suppose that’s fair. Regardless, I’m glad to have finally caught something. A rabbit can only last so long.”
“You caught a big one, she’ll last you at least a month if you cure or dry it.”
“That I can do,” Charlotte admitted, “Before we moved, Cal and I read all the books we could find on wilderness survival. Turns out, reading a book doesn’t prepare you for the real thing.”
“Most things you can only learn by doing,” Arthur agreed.
Charlotte sighed, “I suppose. Maybe one day I’ll write a real wilderness survival guide. One that doesn’t sugar coat things.”
“If you put your mind to it, I’m sure you could do it.”
“I had hoped that the serenity and simplicity of a life in nature would help inspire me to write, but I didn’t account for the work it would take to survive out here. When I stop working, I go to sleep. I have no time for writing.”
“That’s a shame,” Arthur said, “I would be mighty interested in what you could think up.”
“If I ever find the time, I will. I would be delighted to share it with you. You could check it over for me, even.”
“I’m not sure that I’m the one you want for that,” Arthur admitted, “I may be literate, but that don’t make me a scholar.”
“Nonsense,” Charlotte disagreed, “All the better, really. I don’t want to write an overly convoluted or scientific novel. Everyone should enjoy reading, regardless of their knowledge of high society. I came here to get away from all that, after all.”
“I suppose,” Arthur relented, “As long as I’m not the only one.”
“Of course,” Charlotte smiled, glad that Arthur had agreed, “Besides, it gives you an excuse to return. I don’t want you to wander off to never return.”
Charlotte felt bashful, not knowing if she was being too forward. After all, they had only met twice, and while Charlotte hoped that Arthur cared for her, she didn’t really know what she was thinking. However, the thought of never seeing her again had pushed Charlotte to be more bold than she usually would be, and she hoped that it would pay off.
Arthur didn’t say anything for a few seconds, which Charlotte spent waiting with her heart in her throat before she finally responded.
“Of course. If you want me back, I’ll be back.”
Charlotte broke out in a large grin. She didn’t care that Arthur seemed too bashful to look her in her eyes. The knowledge that Arthur wanted to spend more time with her made her stomach flutter. Emboldened, Charlotte reached out and grabbed Arthur’s hand. Arthur froze, but gripped her hand back quick enough that Charlotte almost doubted what she saw.
Charlotte gently squeezed her hand as they continued to walk. She couldn't think of a thing to say, but she didn’t mind because Arthur was holding her hand. She could feel her heart beating in her chest. She looked at Arthur from the corner of her vision and found her looking back at her. Charlotte smiled and Arthur smiled back at her.
The more Charlotte looked at Arthur, the more beautiful Charlotte decided she was, despite how tired she looked. Charlotte hadn’t forgotten how she collapsed earlier. Her eyes were still red and sunken and she thought she could see a fleck of blood still residing on her lips. Even still, with Arthur gently smiling at her, she knew that she was the most beautiful person that she had ever met.
She wanted to reach up and brush the blood from her lips, but her free hand was still holding her repeater and she didn’t want to surprise Arthur. Holding hands didn’t have to be romantic, she told herself, but touching her lips would be. Arthur had helped her so much and she didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.
So, instead she turned her gaze towards the surrounding forest. The day had warmed slightly, but not enough to be unpleasant. The sun shone lazily through the canopy, throwing shifting shadows on the ground in front of her. Despite all the hardships she had encountered here, she had to admit that she was growing to love it. The air was fresh and crisp, unlike the air in Boston.
They continued to walk in comfortable silence until they reached the cabin. Charlotte led Arthur to the shed where she planned to hang the deer. Reluctantly, Charlotte pulled her hand away from Arthur’s to open the door. She thought she felt Arthur give her hand one last squeeze, but was unsure if it was just wishful thinking.
“I prepared for this, even if I was unsure I would ever actually need it,” Charlotte told her, “If you could hang the deer for me, I would be grateful. I didn’t know how I was going to lift it.”
Arthur nodded silently and lifted the deer easily and walked into the shed. Charlotte stood outside, not wanting to crowd her. Arthur set the deer down and tied a rope around its head. She grabbed the other end of the rope and wound it around a ceiling beam before pulling the deer into a hanging position and tying the rope off. Charlotte was, once again, amazed by Arthur’s strength and talent. She made it look easy.
“Thank you,” Charlotte said, feeling as if she was wearing the term out with how often she had used it.
“Don’t mention it,” Arthur seemed determined to not accept her thanks, brushing it off, as she had every other time.
Charlotte moved so she was standing in front of Arthur, looking directly at her.
She had told herself that she wasn’t going to fuss over Arthur, but she couldn’t help but ask, “Are you alright? Truly. Earlier… Earlier you… You weren’t well.”
“I’m alright now,” Arthur was obviously trying to reassure her, but she wasn’t very successful.
Charlotte knew it wasn’t normal to pass out. That it wasn't normal to lose that much weight. She knew that Arthur was ill, anyone who looked at her could tell.
“If you say so,” Charlotte sighed.
She didn’t believe Arthur but wasn’t going to push her more than she already had. Charlotte would wait. When Arthur was ready to share, she would be there.
“Why don’t you come inside. Rest a little while longer,” Charlotte tried to persuade Arthur.
“Naw, I’m alright. I wouldn’t want to be troubling you any more than I already have.”
“Are you sure? It really would be no trouble at all,” Charlotte didn’t want Arthur to leave, not yet.
“I’m sure.”
Charlotte hadn’t known Arthur for long, but she knew her well enough to know that there was no use trying to change her mind.
“Alright,” Charlotte said, unsure, “You take care though. Be careful.”
“I always am.”
Somehow, Charlotte doubted that.
Arthur lifted her hand to tip her hat at Charlotte and turned away from her, “Ma’am.”
Charlotte watched Arthur’s back as she walked away and felt her stomach sink.
“Wait!” Charlotte called after her, “You make sure to come back. You have to proofread my novel. I’ll even make a meal for you. Better than the rabbit.”
Arthur turned and smiled at her, “Alright.”
Charlotte’s spirits soared.
“Promise?” Charlotte said, breathlessly, without thinking.
As soon as the words left her mouth, Charlotte felt her face redden and wanted to slap her hand over her mouth. She felt shameless and hoped that Arthur wouldn’t think she was too brazen.
To Charlotte’s relief, Arthur just laughed at her, “I promise.”
Charlotte laughed as well, relieved. Despite what Arthur had said earlier about returning, she couldn’t help but ask again. Charlotte wanted Arthur to know she really did want her around. She wanted the reassurance that Arthur wouldn’t leave, never to return, leaving Charlotte with no way of finding her.
This time, when Arthur turned away from her, her stomach felt airy and warm. She would see Arthur again, she knew it.
Charlotte stood, watching Arthur leave until she was only looking at the trees, Arthur long gone. Charlotte was giddy. She finally pulled herself together and walked back inside.
Charlotte looked towards the open door leading into her room, where Arthur had laid only a short time ago. Arthur had remade the bed before she had left. The letter Charlotte had left for her was gone. She opened the jewelry box and found the money she left for Arthur still sitting inside.
Charlotte sighed, then smiled. Of course Arthur wouldn’t take the money. Charlotte would have to come up with a new way to give the money to Arthur next time she visited.