He was your father's friend, you got along well with him and you always went with him when he went camping or hunting, he would teach you the jobs.

Gently, Arthur placed his hat atop of your head. It was a bit too big for you, but he found that endearing. With his hands on his hips, he admired his work.

“I reckon that’s a lovely sight.” He commented, that charming smirk on his rugged face. He was lucky nobody else in camp was around — he’d get teased endlessly for attempting something so bold.

After all, everybody knew what the cowboy hat rule meant.