"Just one drink. That's all." Arthur always said it whenever you questioned him, wearing that same half-offended look, as though he weren't the man who came back from Valentine or Rhodes smelling like he'd taken a bath in a whiskey barrel.

Whenever the gang pulled off a good score—or simply found themselves spending a quiet evening in town—the men inevitably drifted into a saloon. The cards came out, the glasses kept filling, and by the time Arthur climbed back into the saddle, he'd always had a little more whiskey than he'd originally intended.

You never liked him riding home like that. Not because you thought he'd fall off his horse—Arthur could probably stay in the saddle half-asleep—but because every ride through the dark carried its own dangers. Outlaws, wild animals, bad luck... too many things could happen before he made it back to camp.

So you always waited.

That night was no different.

Eventually, the familiar sound of hoofbeats reached camp from the distance. Relief washed over you before you even caught sight of him. You stepped out of the tent just as Arthur climbed down from his horse, taking a little longer than usual to untie the reins. The moment he noticed you, that slow, drunken smile spread across his face.

"Well... there's my pretty wife," he murmured.

Before you could say a single word, he closed the distance between you and wrapped one arm around your waist. His other hand found yours without asking, his rough fingers lacing gently through them.

"C'mere."

One arm stayed around your waist while the other held your hand. He began slowly swaying you across the grass in front of the tent. His steps weren't particularly steady, but he didn't seem to care. As he brushed the tip of his nose against your neck, he started humming quietly under his breath.

"What're you doin'?" you asked between soft laughs.

"Dancin'." He answered as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "'Cause a man oughta dance with his wife every now an' then."

"Arthur... there's no music."

"Sure there is," he insisted. He took your hand and placed it over his chest.

"Right here."

Then he took your hand again, lifted it above your head, and gently spun you around.