Early chapter because my parents are getting a few cubic yards of topsoil dumped in their driveway tomorrow morning, so guess who is going to spend all day fixing up the backyard!

Also, is this chapter just emotional cowboys? Yes. Yes it is. I needed these boys to talk honestly about their emotions.

Chapter 13: Fatherhood

Arthur heard the knock and Hosea's voice on the other side of the door, but he didn't call him in or move at all from where he was curled up on the bed, facing the opposite wall. He didn't look up when Hosea and Dutch entered the room anyway. He just squeezed his eyes shut even more, clutching his father's old gambler hat in his hands.

"Hey, Arthur," Hosea started slowly. "How about we have a chat?"

Hosea sat down on the bed when Arthur didn't answer, rubbing Arthur's back. "Isaac seemed pretty upset just now. Want to tell us what happened?"

"No."

"Come on, Arthur, please?" Dutch said. "We want to help, but we can't unless we know what's going on."

"I messed up," Arthur cried.

"Okay, well, we all make mistakes," Hosea said. "I'm sure it's not as bad as all that."

"He thinks I don't love him!"

"Now, I'm sure that's not true," said Dutch, joining Hosea on the bed. Arthur didn't have anything to say to that. He heard Isaac's words, there was no mistaking them.

"What did you boys talk about?" Hosea asked.

"Is Isaac okay?" Arthur asked instead.

"He's upset," Hosea admitted. "But folk are looking after him, don't you worry about that right now. Let's figure out what we need to do to work this out. Now, what happened?"

Arthur hesitated, then it all spilled out. Dutch and Hosea didn't interrupt him. They just sat quietly. It was more than a failure like him deserved.

"Okay, this isn't too bad," Hosea said when he was done. "We'll be able to sort this out. This has been stressful for all of us, so of course Isaac is feeling that."

But Arthur shook his head, curling up tighter. "But this is how it started."

"How what started?" Hosea asked.

Arthur couldn't say it. He didn't want to relive those hazy childhood memories after his mother died. His father mostly left him alone before that. His mother took care of the house and him, and he was usually in bed by the time his father stumbled home. He never worried about whether or not his father loved him, or even liked him. Until it was just the two of them.

Dutch leaned over him, trying to meet his eye. "What do you have there?" he asked, reaching for the hat. Arthur opened his arms a little so that Dutch could see, but wouldn't let him take it.

Dutch sighed. "Why do you still wear that old thing, Arthur?"

"It was my dad's."

"I know. And your daddy wasn't a nice man, if I remember correctly," Dutch said.

"I don't want to be like him," Arthur said. "I don't."

"You're not-" Hosea started saying.

"I'm a failure."

"No, son, no."

"I'm just like him."

"Arthur, look at me!" Dutch said, turning Arthur over to face him. Arthur blinked the tears out of his eyes, staring back at Dutch. "You are nothing like Lyle Morgan! And you will never be like him, I promise."

"But-"

"But nothing! Arthur, you are a far better person than him. You always have been!" Dutch said.

"No, I'm worse," Arthur said, voice hitching.

"Now, that's not true, and you know it. You saved Anna, you saved your son. You think Lyle Morgan would have ever done anything like that?"

"What if you're wrong?"

"We're not," Hosea said. "You're not a bad person. You went through something horrible and you're trying to deal with it. But you shouldn't try to deal with it alone." Hosea shifted closer to Arthur, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "What are you thinking about right now?"

"That I can't do anything. I'm so fucking useless."

"No, son, you're not," Dutch said. "You're recovering."

"Dutch, look at me! Look at…" Arthur trailed off, gesturing at his left leg.

Dutch did look at his leg, pulling back the blankets slowly, delicately. His hand hovered over it, hesitating, then pulled Arthur's leg onto his lap and began to massage the muscles. "Miss Grimshaw said this helped?"

Arthur nodded.

"When that doctor told us your leg was too damaged to save, I didn't want to believe it," Dutch said, his eyes watering. "Hosea had to talk sense into me. And I'm glad he did, because if we hadn't and you died… God, Arthur, I thought you were dead when we found you."

Arthur was shocked by Dutch's honesty. There was a hint of raw fear as Dutch shut his eyes against the memories, letting go of Arthur's leg in favor of pulling him into a hug.

"I just saw the grave marker, and I thought… but Colm had to gloat, he wanted me to know."

Colm's words echoed in Arthur's ears, and he shuddered in Dutch's hold. "I thought I was going to die. I couldn't move, it was so dark. I knew you were coming and wanted me to hold on, but I couldn't."

"But you did hold on," Dutch said, adjusting his hold to bring Arthur closer. "You survived it. And I swear to you, Colm will never touch you again!"

Hosea jumped in. "I can't imagine, after going through all that, finding out we had to amputate your leg. That never should have been our choice to make, and more than anything I wish you could have decided for yourself. I hope, one day, you can forgive us for that."

"I don't blame you," Arthur said. "But how am I supposed to work? Earn my keep? Take care of Isaac?"

"We're going to help you," Hosea said immediately. "Once you have that wooden leg, we'll figure out how to get you walking and riding Bo."

"And as for earning your keep," Dutch said, "Arthur, you always have a place here, Isaac too, no matter what you're able to do. We'll never kick you out! And if you…" Dutch hesitated, almost as if he was coming to a realization. "If you decide that you don't want to work jobs as an outlaw anymore, that's fine, or you want to work on Bessie's sister's ranch… well, just be ready for a lot of visits, because I love you. And I want you in my life, no matter what."

Hosea suddenly looked up at Dutch with adoration, a smile growing on his face. Arthur knew they had many fights about the ranch and his future with Isaac, and he wondered if this was the first time they'd talked about it since he'd been taken by Colm. Hosea said, "I love you too, Arthur. And whatever you want to do, I support you."

Arthur didn't know what he wanted to do in the future, but he knew what he needed right now. "I want to stay," he said.

"Then stay," Dutch said. Hosea joined the hug on Arthur's other side.

"This isn't too tight, is it?" Hosea asked carefully.

"It's nice," Arthur said. Wrapped up between Hosea and Dutch, Arthur felt warm and safe. They stayed that way for a few minutes, but Arthur couldn't fully relax just yet. "But what about Isaac? What do I do?"

"Be honest with him," Hosea said. "Let him know that you love him. That things are difficult right now, but you are trying. And work on spending more time with him when you can."

"And remember, son, you are nothing like that bastard Lyle," Dutch said, dripping venom at his father's name. "You will never become like Lyle. And you certainly don't need an old, broken hat to remind you of that."

Arthur clenched his fist around the brim of the hat. Then one by one, his fingers loosened, and he let Dutch remove it and set it aside.

"Can you get Isaac?" Arthur asked.

"In a minute," Hosea said. "Let's just take a moment and calm down."

They sat like that until Arthur yawned. "Maybe a nap first," Dutch laughed.

"But Isaac-"

"Will be fine. You won't be able to have a good talk with him if you're exhausted. You need rest. I know you haven't had a good night's sleep in a long while."

Hosea settled himself flat on the bed, pulling Arthur and Dutch down to lay with him. Nestled between the men two who were actually fathers to him, Arthur soon fell asleep. He was quickly followed by Dutch and Hosea.

And for the first time since Colm, their sleep was not interrupted by nightmares.

Taking a nap turned out to be a good move, because John, Mac, and Davey decided to take Isaac out of camp for a few hours. They were just getting back when Arthur finally stirred, carried into the waking world by Dutch and Hosea quietly conversing next to him.

"Feeling better?" Hosea asked Arthur.

Arthur nodded and said, "I should talk to Isaac."

"I agree," Hosea said. "We'll go get him. You know what you're going to say?"

"No."

"You'll be fine," Dutch said.

Arthur hoped that was true. He certainly felt a lot better after his talk with Dutch and Hosea, but still he fidgeted with the ends of his blanket. "Maybe I should get out of bed for this. Or sitting up, at least."

Hosea gave Arthur a grin of approval. There wasn't a chair in the room, but Arthur got dressed in actual clothes rather than the union suit he'd been wearing for far too long, and sat on the edge of the bed with his legs hanging down.

Isaac cautiously peeked around the door when Hosea brought him back up. Arthur smiled and said, "Hey, Isaac, come on in."

"Hi, Pa."

Arthur patted the bed, and Isaac jumped up next to him. "I'm real sorry about earlier," Arthur said.

"It's okay."

"No, it isn't," Arthur said, putting an arm around Isaac's shoulders. "I love you, Isaac, and I haven't done a very good job of showing it lately. You see, I want to be able to run around with you and Copper, and take you for rides on Bo, but until the end of my leg is healed up enough for the doctors to make me a new one, I can't. And even then, I don't know what's going to happen. Because of that, well, I get sad. It makes me not want to do anything. And sometimes it makes me… uh…"

"Grumpy?" Isaac said, filling in the word Arthur was looking for much kinder than Arthur himself would have.

He chuckled. "Yeah, I guess it turns me into a grump. But Isaac, I promise that I am not angry with you. I love you very much, and I'm going to work on being better. If ever I'm being a bit of a grump, you can tell me, okay? Or you can let Hosea or Bessie know, and they'll come tell me. That sound good?"

"Yeah."

"Come here," he said, hugging Isaac a little closer to him, his heart warming when Isaac wrapped his arms around Arthur's middle. And he was feeling much better at the moment, so he figured he could take another step. "Now, I want to make this up to you. How about we do something together? Read that story you were talking about, or go outside?"

Isaac thought for a moment. "Can we play the card game?"

"The one you were playing with John and the Callanders?"

"Yeah! It's really fun."

"Sure, let's do it! But you're going to have to teach me how to play."

"Wait!" Isaac said, scrambling out of the room. Arthur watched him go, confused. But he didn't have to wonder for long. Isaac ran back in, a hat in his hands. "John took me to town today and helped me pick it. He said your hat got destroyed and that you needed a new one. Do you like it?"

It was another gambler hat, a similar style to his old one, but it was a rich brown, the band an embroidered pattern of blue and red. "It's wonderful," Arthur said. "I love it!"

"Really?"

"Yeah! How about you put it on me?" Arthur leaned forward and let Isaac settle the hat on his head. It fit perfectly. "Now, let's show this off outside!"

Arthur grabbed his crutches and hauled himself up. He was starting to get used to moving with them, and made it outside much faster than before. Isaac ran ahead to the table, gathering John, Bessie, and Davey to join in the game. Copper almost tripped Arthur, absolutely ecstatic to see him outside.

"Nice hat!" John said.

"Thank you. I must say, you do have decent taste. Who'd have thought?"

"Shut up, Arthur!"

"Now, how do you play this anyways?"

"You start with seven cards," Davey said. "You got to match either the face or the number with the card on the table. Whoever runs out of cards first, wins."

"And here I thought you were teaching him poker," Arthur said.

"I figured he should learn what all the cards and numbers look like first!" Davey laughed. "We'll get him caught up soon enough."

"Teaching my son to gamble, huh?"

"Hey, poker builds character!"

"Is one of you going to deal?" Bessie asked.

"Alright, alright," Davey said, grabbing the deck.

Arthur gathered his seven cards, looking around the table. "What happens if you can't match?"

"You have to draw cards until you can," Isaac said.

"Oh, so it's like dominoes."

"What's dominoes?" Isaac asked.

"It's another game. I'm ain't too good at it, so you should get Bessie to teach you."

Arthur settled back in his chair, looking around the camp. Perhaps everyone was right. Focusing on the fun and conversation did help ease the tension of the last few days. Hosea waved at him from the porch where he sat with Dutch, both smiling. Arthur gave a small wave back, played his first card.

Not every day was a good day. Some days, Arthur had to tell Isaac that he wasn't feeling well, and needed to be left alone. Usually, it was after a string of particularly bad nightmares. But because of their talk, Isaac understood him better. Arthur always told Hosea and Dutch, too, who made sure to stop by to check on Arthur and see if he needed anything.

But he had more good days. More days dressed and out of bed. More days playing games or reading outside.

On a particularly hot day, Arthur sat outside under the shade of a tree, drawing in his journal. He frowned at the image, adjusted a line, and frowned some more.

"Having trouble?" Dutch asked, looking up from his book.

"I just want this to be perfect. It's a gift for Isaac."

"Can I see?"

Arthur passed the journal over. "Is this Eliza?" Dutch asked.

"Yeah. I've got a photograph of my ma, but none of Eliza. Isaac should have something. You think he'll like it?"

"He's going to love it," Dutch said, squeezing his shoulder and handing back the journal.

Later that night, Arthur gave Isaac the drawing, much to the boy's delight. He used the frame that previously housed Mary's picture, figuring it was better not to have his ex-fiancé next to his child's mother. He still kept the picture, tucked away in the pages of a book.

He took down his father's mugshot and buried it at the bottom of his chest. Arthur didn't want that man staring down at him a second longer.

Besides, he had better pictures to display.