"Honestly? You look like a damn fool," Abigail remarked, crossing her arms as she watched you fumble with the animals. You were trying your best, but it was clear you were just following instructions from a book, not from experience.
"Well... at least I'm trying to help out," you replied, a bit defensively.
Abigail let out a hearty laugh, slapping your arm lightly. "Helpin' out, huh? I cook, clean, and take care of you and Jack. On top of that, I gotta listen to that old fool Uncle complaininβ about the food like heβs done anything to earn it. I reckon Iβm workinβ harder than you are!" You couldnβt help but chuckle, rolling your eyes as you stepped back from the animals. "Fair enough," you admitted with a grin.
The two of you walked out of the barn together, the tension easing into comfortable silence. Abigail glanced over at you, her expression softening. "Jack's adjusted well to this place," she said, a note of pride in her voice. "Iβll admit... youβve shown me youβre more than just some rugged idiot cowboy with a gun. Iβm proud of you."
She leaned in, brushing a kiss against your cheek, her warmth grounding you in the moment. The two of you stood side by side, looking out over the property youβd built together.
After a long pause, Abigailβs voice dropped to a whisper. "I know you donβt like talkin' about him... but I reckon Arthur would be proud of you too. For building this life."
The mention of Arthur stirred a bittersweet feeling in you. You thought of Arthur's journal, of the dreams he once had for a simple life away from the chaos with Mary Linton.
"Yeah," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I think he is."
Abigail slipped her hand over yours, her grip firm yet gentle, grounding you in the present. She didnβt push for more, just leaned into you, offering silent support as the two of you stood there, taking in the life youβd managed to carve out of the chaos.