One-Shot Summary (5/05/2021 - Originally posted on AO3 31/03/2021): Lizzie finds herself lost in town that pretend it's as big as a city. Nervous and alone, she manages to stumble upon the one person who can still make her father's heart race.

Set around four years prior to the events of RDR2

I can't quite remember,

Just what guided me this way…

Year 1896

Lizzie was bored. And tired.

It felt as if she had been following after Auntie Tilly and Karen for forever now as they moved excitedly from one dress shop to another, and then another, brushing wistful fingers over coloured fabrics and soft lace.

Lizzie had enjoyed it at first.

She rather liked pretty things, but her enjoyment had been quick to fade when one visit to a dress shop turned into visiting another and then another.

Lizzie had never, in all her life, seen so many dress shops in just one town before. But then, this was a very large town they were passing through, almost close to being city, or so she had heard Uncle Dutch spit out disdainfully earlier that morning before she had been bundle into the wagon with Auntie Tilly and Karen, to gather some sewing supplies and the like. And to purchase Lizzie some new clothes, as she was rather outgrown the last of the dresses that her momma… that her momma had made for her.

But after the first hour or so, it quickly became clear, to Lizzie at least, that their original purpose for coming into town had been quite forgotten in lieu of fancy gowns and pretty bonnets.

And after a while, after the gowns and bonnets had rather lost their shine, Lizzie curled herself up quietly beneath a rack of heavy, winter coats, well out of the way of everyone – her presences in these shops had been frown at enough already by shop assistants and customers alike – and took a nap.

She didn't know how long she napped, but when she finally woke, she found herself to be quite well rested.

Auntie Tilly and Karen must be done with gazing longingly at pretty dresses by now, she had thought with a yawn.

Stretching, she crawled out from beneath the heavy coats, rubbing her eyes as she peered around her for a sight of Tilly pretty midnight curls or ear out for Karen's loud and cheery voice, speaking out above the chatter of any room.

She frowned when she neither spotted nor heard either.

A frown that only deepened after she did a quick round of the whole shop – checking dressing rooms, under counters and behind racks of gowns and coats – and she still could not find hide nor hair of them.

A tight uneasy feeling started to grow within her belly.

Stay where you are, she could hear Uncle Hosea say in her head. If you're lost, stay put, someone'll find you.

But staying where she was had unkind looks being sent her way and the street outside were busy, heavy with foot traffic that cared not for a lone child of barely five years old, trying to fight against them in her search of two missing aunts.

It was a fruitless fight and Lizzie found her powerless to stop herself from being pulled along with the flow of traffic.

It was not until the buildings suddenly fell away to a little town park did she manage to escape the flood of movement she had been caught up in.

The park was a little overgrown, but to Lizzie it was spark of greenery and life, lost in an otherwise grey and bricked up world that was known as civilisation. She thinks she understand better now why Uncle Dutch speaks so poorly of oversized towns playing make belief of being dirty, big cities. If a city was anything like this town, Lizzie would pick life out under the stars, living in a tent, in a heartbeat.

The park calmed the tight knot in her belly.

There were less people in it and those who were, almost looked at her kindly, asking if she was alright – she said that she was, that she was just waiting for her Aunties. The truth, though Lizzie wonder if it still counted as a lie because neither Auntie Tilly nor Karen knew that she was here – and patting her head before moving along.

Lizzie sat upon a wooden bench, legs swing back and forth, ignoring the bite to her stomach with ease.

She could wait for food. She had waited for food, for days, before Daddy came and found her, hiding beneath the floorboards of … that house after… after…

No, no.

She shook her head, firmly telling those dark thoughts to go away, now was not the time of day for them.

Never was the time for them, but at least in the sunlight and surrounded by pretty flowers, the thoughts retreated without there being any need for a battle.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed a pair of men standing off to the other side of the small park, beneath a tree. They were speaking with each other and trying to act as if they weren't continually glancing in her direction.

A prickling feeling ran down her spine.

Having seen that she had spied them both, the men straighten and with smiles that they must have thought looked friendly, they started to approach her.

Lizzie eyed their worn clothes, greasy hair and sharp eyes and immediately hopped up and off her bench.

After a quick, but frantic search she spied a lone woman, well dressed, walking slowly past the park, an umbrella at her side.

It was a risk, but staying was an even greater one.

"Momma!"

She rushed the lone woman who walked to the edge of the heavy foot traffic of businessmen and gossiping ladies, her mouth pulled down into an unhappy line.

If the lady was surprised by Lizzie suddenly pressing herself against her side, she hid it well, though Lizzie certainly felt her jump.

The two men who had been approaching her froze in their step, their gazes flicking quickly between Lizzie and the woman she was pressed up against.

Lizzie did not know what look the woman gave them but it must have been something fierce for the men beat a very quick retreat, leaving the park entirely in the opposite direction.

Lizzie pressed a hand over her racing heart before peering uncertainly up at the woman she had forced to keep her safe.

"Tank-thank you."

The woman blinked down at her a few times, as if a little stunned to be finding herself in such situation as this before she gently pulled Lizzie back into the park, sitting her down at a different bench.

"That's… well, that is quite alright," the lady brushed a stray wisp of dark brown hair from her face, which seemed to look not so unhappy now, though her dark brown eyes were bright with concern, "but… what are you doing on you own? It's not safe for a little girl to be all by herself, even in daylight."

"I lost my Aunties. I tried looking for 'em, but I can't find 'em nowhere!" She scowled at the busy street, "and now I'mma even more lost."

"Poor darling." The lady said softly, as she ran a gentle hand down Lizzies face, smoothing down the curls Lizzie knows have pulled free of the braid Miss Grimshaw had wrestled them into that morning.

"Do you know where you lost them?"

Lizzie shook her head.

"What about home? Do you know your way home?"

"No, I – we…" Lizzie hesitated, because speaking to folk about her family living in tents always seemed to get very mixed response, and this lady looked to be a proper lady with how pretty she dressed and her hair all done up nice - she even smelled pretty, like the expensive perfume that all the girls fought over whenever a bottle appeared in camp after a successful robbery of a stagecoach or manor. – might decide Lizzie wasn't worth helping if she knew she didn't live in a house no more. Not that she minded living in a tent, but a house, Lizzie missed living with a roof over her head (even if doors did nothing to stop bad man from getting in), though she would never breathe a word of that to Daddy…

"Are you and your family just passing by?" the lady asked kindly and Lizzie gave her a grateful nod.

"Are you staying in a hotel?

Hesitant shake of her head.

"Outside of town then?"

She nodded, peeking up at the lady's face, waiting for… well the same looks she got in the shops.

But the lady simply nibbled her lip thoughtfully.

"Do you know what side of town you travel in from?"

"Um, we, um, passed the train station on our way in."

"Well, that's a start." The lady smiled, and held out her gloved hand, "my name is Mary. Mrs Mary Linton."

"Lizzie, I mean, Elizabeth." She shyly shook the lady's hand, "Elizabeth Morgan, please to meet you and thank you, very much, for helping me." She added quickly, remembering her manners.

She was surprised when Mrs Linton face grew very still.

"Morgan?" Mrs Linton breathed and Lizzie suddenly feared that maybe she knew Daddy's name from a Wanted poster.

But-but Uncle Dutch said it would be safe for them to move about this town, that no one knew 'em from Adam.

"Yes?" her voice was small and tentative, but then Mrs Linton seemed to shake whatever had caused her distress and she was smiling once more, holding Lizzie's hand tight as they battled against the traffic of civilisation.

As they walked, they made small talk.

Lizzie sensed that as careful as she was being with her own words, Mrs Linton was doing the same with her own. She always seemed to be about to ask something, before catching herself and instead asked Lizzie about something else, mostly along the lines of whether Lizzie liked horses or did she have a favourite story?

Even with them both being so careful with their words, it was a pleasant conversation and Lizzie was in high spirits by the time they reached the train station.

She stood on her tippy toes, searching for Auntie Tilly and Karen or Uncle and the wagon they had ridden into town in.

She scrunched up her nose when again, she saw no one familiar.

"I don't know where they are!" She huffed when she turned back to Mrs Linton who was looking around at all the folk moving in and out and all-round the train station, her face twisted into an expression that Lizzie could only described as pained hope.

It was an expression Lizzie was familiar with, for it was the one her Momma had worn often, before… when she used to look out their window,, back home, waiting for Daddy to visit them.

"Why don't we wait here," Mrs Linton said gently, as she sat neatly upon a bench that gave them a clear view of the road that lead in and out of town, "We have a clear view and we're out of the way of everyone else."

Lizzie sighed, before sitting down beside Mrs Linton.

"Yeah, okay." She chewed upon her bottom lip, before whispering " 'ope that ain't left without me. Or f'gotten me."

"Oh," Mrs Linton said softly, brushing a few more wild strands from Lizzie face, "I don't believe that would ever happen. Not for a moment."

They sit in comfortable silence, Lizzie swinging her legs back and forth, while Mrs Linton sits as neat and proper as a real lady beside her. Though Lizzie can see her hands twitch occasionally, curling into fist in her lap before relaxing once more.

They seem to be sitting there forever before Lizzie sees finally, finally, the top of a dearly familiar black gambler hat.

She's up and on her feet, shouting at the top of her lungs as she hangs over the top of the train station railing.

"Daddy!"

Her father's head snaps in her direction immediately, his face which looks whiter than she thinks she's ever seen it before, breaks into a look of pure relief as he breaks into an almost runs to where she's standing, not bothering for a moment with the stairs to the station, he simply lifted himself up and over the railings themselves.

"Where tha' hell 'ave you been?" His words were rough but his embrace as he swung her up and off her feet was warm and smelled like home.

"I dunno." She shrugged as she hugged his neck tight.

"Liz!" Her father groaned, "you're ain't meant to wander off in town. You any idea how worried we've all been? Your poor Aunt Tilly's been in tears all afternoon and…"

Something makes him trail off, his whole body becoming ridged as he looked over her head to whomever was standing there.

"Hello Arthur."

Oh, right… She had completely forgotten about Mrs Linton.

She squirmed in Daddy's arms until he let her down and she bounced to Mrs Linton's side.

"Daddy, this is Mrs Mary Linton. She helped me get me… um, less lost?" Lizzie looked between the two adults and couldn't help but think they both looked rather odd. Or their faces did with the way they were staring at each other.

"You found 'er?" Daddy asked sounding a rather strangled, scuffing his feet as he scrubbed the back of his neck with heel of his hand.

"Well," Mrs Linton gave him a nervous, shy little smile. "It would be rather more accurate to say, she found me. By the Park, along Green Gables Avenue, she was… well, she saw me and I guess…"

"I liked you." Lizzie shrugged, "I liked the park too, Daddy. I thought, it be a place you'd look, so I sat there, only-only, there was these fellers who were watching me, like how Uncle Hosea said to watch out for, so, so, so… I saw Mrs Linton and," she shrugged, "I liked her. I like you." she beamed at Mrs Linton before adding quickly, "She stopped 'em fellers from coming 'ear me."

"Um, thanks."

Lizzie frowned up at her Daddy.

He wasn't usually so… he had never been good with words, her daddy, or at least so teased Uncle Dutch and Hosea, but he wasn't usually so… terribly tongued tied?

"You're welcome. I was, um, I was very happy to help."

Lizzie continued to stare between the two adults, both of whom were still acting very odd and not at all like how she knew them to act.

She was just going to ask where Auntie Tilly and Karen were when her belly rumbled, loudly.

Her face burned in embarrassment when both adults' snapped away from looking at each other to instead look down at her.

"I ain't eaten since breakfast." She grumbled hotly, looking away from them both. Breakfast felt a very long, long time ago.

"Oh, right," Her father was swinging her back up into his arms. "so I should, um, go and get some food, for her."

"Of course, of course." Mrs Linton agreed, her cheeks burning as the three of them made for the stairs. "I shall let you two be on your way…Or…"

"Or?" Her father prompted, sounding almost hopeful.

"Or," Mrs Linton said after she took a deep breath, "I know a marvellous little café, not at all far. Maybe we could..."

"Cake?" Lizzie asked hopefully because café meant cake, yes? And it had been such a very long time since Lizzie had had a slice of cake. A real, fresh slice, not one that had been sitting in a saddle bag for over a day.

"Well…" her father drawled, sounding far more like himself, "guess she's spoken for us."

Mrs Linton laughed softly.

"Yes," she said smiling at Lizzie, "this café has some very lovely cake. Though I think you might want to have some proper food first."

Lizzie sagged a little for a moment, before straightening up because if she acted too much like baby, that could mean no cake at all, and that was a risk Lizzie refused to take.

The café was very pretty, with not too many people and lots of pretty flower pots decorating the area.

Daddy looked a little awkward, but Lizzie sat up as straight as she could at the table, barely able to contain her excitement. She had never sat at a real café before.

She and… they had sat out back of the saloon where Momma had worked as a waitress, when Mrs Carter was unable to look after them for one reason or another, but that hardly counted. The food wasn't nearly so good and no one was drunk here.

"So," Daddy started while Lizzie gleeful chewed into some of the best tasting sandwiches she had ever eaten, "are you here… by yourself or…" Lizzie looked curiously over at Mrs Linton, whose cheeks had turned pink again. They had resume their normal colour when they came to sit at the café and she ordered them food, but now she was blushing again.

"No, I um, well, I guess you could say I'm here with my husband." Lizzie thought she heard a hint of sadness in Mrs Linton tones, the same hint Lizzie had always caught in Momma's tone when she spoke of Daddy, whenever he had been gone away for a long, long time.

"You guess?" Lizzie frowned at her Daddy, at his rough tone and grumpy face.

"Be kind to me Arthur." Mrs Linton all but begged, "He is, well, he is here. Somewhere, though I do not care to think as to where."

"So, life ain't turned out how you imagine it would after marrying him, huh?" Her Daddy said, tone still hard but Lizzie thought he looked rather sorry for Mrs Linton.

And it was maybe this look, or a number of things adding up in her young brain that she finally understood.

"Oh," her sandwiched dropped to her plate, "you're Mary."

As in Daddy's Mary, his first love, the lady Daddy asked to marry – but not Momma – all them years ago, well before Lizzie was born, but she had turned him down. Or it hadn't worked out. Or something...

Something bad happened between them, was all Lizzie understood, and that was why they weren't now married.

Which really, Lizzie thought, was rather lucky for her and-and Zac, and she guessed Momma too, because if Daddy had married Mary, than he'd never have been with Momma and that'd mean no Lizzie and Zac.

At least, that's how Lizzie thought it went.

Married men weren't meant to go have babies with people other than their wives. That was why Mrs Miller had gone after Mr Miller with a shotgun, because he had gone and had a baby with Miss Rose Clearwater.

Anyway, if she thought Mary's cheek had been bright pink before, they were scarlet now. Not to mention her Daddy's face!

Lizzie picked up her sandwich again and shoved it whole into her mouth, not really tasting how good it was anymore.

"From the mouths of babies." Her father grumbled with a very red face.

Mrs Linton – Mary – laughed lightly, still a little pink in the face, but otherwise, her demeanour did not change.

Lizzie only half listened as the adults talked about families, wayward fathers and the misadventures of younger brothers – Mary spoke very fondly of her little brother Jamie while, as usual, Daddy had only grunted about Uncle John. At first at least, until Mary pulled a chuckle from him when she recounted the first meeting between her and a very young Uncle John who had apparently been in such a rush to meet her (or more likely be hounded into meeting her by Miss Grimshaw), that he had tripped over his feet and landed face first in a muddy puddle, just barely missing splashing everyone else with mud. Apparently it had worked very well in breaking the ice between Mary and the rest of the van der Linde gang.

Which had Lizzie pause mid-chew, deep in thought.

She didn't think her Momma had met anyone from the gang outside of Uncle Hosea and Uncle John… why was that?

Why had Mary met everyone in the gang? Well everyone, in those days that is being; Uncle Dutch, Uncle Hosea, Miss Grimshaw, Annabelle and Bessie (Lizzie did not know the two ladies, they had died long before she was born, but she had heard enough to know she would have liked 'em and actually rather missed them, in a strange way) and Uncle John.

Why, with Momma, had it only been Uncle Hosea and Uncle John, whom she met?

It just… didn't seem right to Lizzie.

But she soon forgot such thoughts when a large piece of chocolate cake (with real whipped cream and strawberries!) was set down in front of her.

Her father let out a bark of laughter at her face while Mary tried to hide a chuckle behind a delicate hand.

8 8 8

"Thanks again, for… well, you know." Arthur said as he lifted Lizzie, now sound asleep, up and against his shoulder.

"Of course." Mary said quietly, raising a gentle finger to brush against Lizzie's cheek, which had finally, finally started to grow round and plump after months of effort to get her to eat more than a few bites of food.

"She's," his thoughts were pulled away from the memory of a near starved child, hiding beneath blood stained floor boards, blinking up at him with dull blue green eyes as she tried to welcome him home through blood cracked lips, "she's beautiful, Arthur."

"Yeah, well, lucky for her, she takes after 'er mother, not me." He was flinching before he even finished his sentence because bringing up Eliza, to Mary, felt… disrespectful, to both women.

Even though he had spoken, at length, to Eliza about Mary and that hadn't felt nearly so wrong, but maybe that had been because, back then, both women had been alive and well and now…

He tighten his hold on Lizzie who simply snuggled close to him in her sleep.

It was hard to miss though, the longing and wistfulness in Mary's eyes as she stared at the two of them.

"And her mother?"

He wished she hadn't asked, though he could not fault her for doing so.

"Dead."

Again he winced, for speaking of Eliza's death so bluntly, near to a snarl that had Mary eying him in an almost wary fashion and causing Lizzie to grumble in her sleep.

"I'm… I'm sorry Arthur. For yours... and Lizzie's loss."

He opened his mouth to say something, anything to ease the tension that had grown between them again, even though it had seemed almost to be gone while they had watched Lizzie consume a slice of chocolate cake that had been almost the size of her head with unadulterated glee.

"You," Did he truly wish to know, truly, "Do you have any… you know," He nodded at Lizzie.

"No." Mary replied simply, her tone matter of fact but her eyes had not lost the wistful gaze that kept flicking back to Lizzie.

"It wasn't planned," He found himself saying as they slowly walked their way around a park – larger than the one Lizzie had sought refuge in earlier that day. His words appeared to have a life of their own, "I didn't even know til they were almost born, maybe a month 'fore."

"They?" He supposed he wasn't all that surprised Mary had picked up on that slip. He was usually so careful, so careful to not… to not bring up Isaac, but Lizzie was asleep, so it should be alright to-to talk about him, shouldn't it?

"Lizzie's twin. A boy, Isaac."

He saw Mary open her mouth, before she neatly pursed her lips, her question laying unasked between them, to be answered by him if he so wished. Or not, it was up to him.

"Eliza, she… she took it all in her stride. Even me." He snorted, feeling the familiar swell of pain, anger and loathing, towards himself, for allowing what happen to her and Isaac, for not being the goddamn man they deserved, being there when they needed him most and stopping their senseless deaths.

"She… was a good kid. Smart, hard-working, deserved the world, though she'd never ask for it. She… deserved better than me, better than what happened to her, to both of them."

He glanced at Mary's face, seeing nothing but compassion and sorrow in it, he found himself continuing, his voice breaking, but saying more about the whole wretched incident than he had ever spoken to Hosea.

"It ain't been a year yet." He took another deep shuddering breath, "Came back for a visit. It was day time, but even then something felt… off, wrong, bout the house. Too dark, too quiet – and with twins, it ain't ever quiet." He swallowed, pain swelling in his chest as he stepped easily into the memory, the nightmare of the worst kind, because it was real, it had happened, and he could not bring them back.

"Saw the crosses just as I came to the gate, the two of them, seated beneath the tree Isaac loved to climb though Liza was always barking at him to get out of before he broke his neck." he smiled faintly at that happy little memory of his boy, his little boy, who burn as bright as the sun before his light was snuffed out forever.

"Don't know how long I stood there, don't even remember what made me think that Lizzie might still be alive, still in the house. Under the goddamn floorboards, is where I found her. She been under there, two, maybe three weeks. Not a soul knew her to be there. 'cept her damn cat." Christ, not a day didn't go by that he wasn't grateful to that bloody hellcat that he found near drowned by a creek as a kitten and taken to Eliza and the kids as a gift. "Damn cat was scratching beneath my feet when I went in. His scratching had me pulling up the floorboards and there she was, starved and sick, but alive."

"Oh Arthur."

"Grabbed her, took her, haven't looked back. Ain't no one else, she ain't got no one but me." he tried not to sound defensive, even though he can see Mary is chewing on her tongue, objections brewing behind her dark eyes.

"But you're still..." She didn't finish her question, simply sighed, "of course, you are."

"Just til we have enough money, then I'll…" give her the life she deserves, the life I promised Eliza that I'd give her and the twins. We just need more money.

"Hosea teaching her how to read, from Susan she's learning to sew. I'm given her the best I can right now, but soon, soon I'll give her more. She won't grow up like me," or the rest of us, he left unsaid, even though memories of angry, frighten, starved children flashed across his mind; a boy ready to fight to the death with his fists, another boy, younger, with a his noose around his neck, more feral than child. And a girl, sweet, frighten and should have been with her Momma, not running from a gang that stole her and meant her harm, "I'm gonna do better by her."

By her, and little Jackie.

These two kids, they deserved the whole goddamn world and dammit, Arthur was going to give it to them, even if it killed him.