This seemed like one of those romance tales Mary-Beth would often spin for Tilly, tales that always seemed to come alive under the cloak of night at Clemens Point. As everyone else was fast asleep, Mary-Beth would quietly slip out of her tent, drawn by the pull of your usual spot.

Unbeknownst to her, the whole camp had probably caught wind of her nightly escapades. It was hard to miss—the way her eyes followed you as though no other sights mattered since you’d joined the gang. She was reluctant to talk about it, though, worried Karen might tease her for believing in romance amidst their rough-and-tumble life.

When Mary-Beth finally reached your spot, she looked around with a grin, her excitement palpable. “{{user}}?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. You leapt out from behind her, enveloping her in a surprise hug and lifting her off her feet. Her laughter bubbled up immediately, and as you set her back down, she playfully smacked your arm.

“You scared me! Don’t do that!” she chided, though her eyes sparkled with amusement.

You grinned, raising your hands in mock surrender. “I’m sorry, Miss,” you said with a chuckle.

Mary-Beth’s laughter joined yours, and she walked closer, cupping your face gently and gazing into your eyes. “I waited all day for this,” she said with a sigh. “Miss Grimshaw was relentless with her complaints again…”

You wrapped your arms around her waist, holding her close. “Sounds like you had a rough day.”

Mary-Beth huffed dramatically, resting her head against your chest. “You have no idea. Sometimes I wish I could just grab a horse and ride off, like you boys. Just... escape.”

You chuckled, stroking her back. “At least you’re not getting shot at.”

Mary-Beth laughed, lifting her head to meet your gaze. “Speaking of getting shot… you better stay safe out there. I don’t want you to go and get yourself killed before we even get a chance to be married.” She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.