When Arthur lifted the feller from the ground, a part of him had expected to find Marston's chewed up face. The young man straightened his coat and the dark hair fooled him a moment until the vision faded from a scarred cheek to a youthful, beardless face. Ben Dorsch, whose hair wasn't long and stringy, but short, thick on the top with the hint of curls.

While Charlotte and Ben decided to walk side by side the remaining short distance up to the house, Arthur mounted the gray workhorse Vee. Karen had stayed on Jane, holding the reins and quiet for once as she observed the siblings with open curiosity. Arthur kept his eyes peeled to the trees, his rifle in hand and ready as he didn't trust the last wolf to have gone far. Somehow, Charlotte's brother had made it out of his scare with only tears to his coat, but Arthur didn't want to risk a second encounter.

"Benji, it's wonderful to see you," exclaimed Charlotte. "But I thought you were on holiday with friends at the university?"

"They ended up canceling."

"And you didn't get on the boat with your parents?" Arthur asked, half-mocking 'cause he personally wouldn't set foot on a boat ever again.

Charlotte answered with a wave of her hand. "Benji gets terribly sick on the water." She patted his hand in a soothing gesture. "I certainly don't blame you."

Benji nodded, but his eyes flicked downward. The boy cleared his throat, seeming a little too eager to change the subject. "Where have you two been? I hadn't expected the house to be empty."

"Shopping," Charlotte said simply. "For some things to spruce up the cabin for Christmas."

"So late?" Ben teased. "That's not like you."

"Well, we hadn't initially anticipated being home." Charlotte huffed out a slightly agitated breath. "I only received Mama's letter a few days ago."

The two continued their conversation, catching up on their lives and discussing family members Arthur hadn't heard mention of yet. Meanwhile, he led Karen and the horses to the stable in back of the house.

It weren't much of a stable yet, truth be told. Before the snow had started, when the air had been cool, but not yet biting on the lungs, he and Charlotte had built out the roof some, to give better cover for the horses, whether that be rain or snow. Once the weather calmed again, Arthur hoped to get the supplies to expand on it further, to provide a sturdier shelter with more space.

As he and Karen rejoined the other two on the porch, Charlotte was telling Ben, "You're welcome to stay of course, but it'll be tight quarters, just to warn you."

"I hadn't realized you would have company." Ben glanced at Karen in some confusion. "Whoever she is."

Charlotte saw the look and covered her mouth. "How terribly rude of me. Karen, this is my incorrigible brother Benjamin..."

Formality straightened Ben's spine as he placed his hands behind his back and nodded. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss...?"

"Jones," Karen supplied, crossing her arms and studying him with open distrust.

At her reaction, Arthur all of a sudden recalled Karen's dislike of those in high society. Not that he was any kind of an admirer of the rich either. But if she gave Ben half a chance, like he had, she'd find the boy wasn't half as bad as his brother.

"I apologize for the intrusion," Ben addressed Karen as much as Charlotte. "I suppose, I could get a room in town."

"Or I could." Karen shrugged. "I ain't no relation."

"No. We invited you," Charlotte protested, looking to Arthur for help.

"Alright, settle down." Arthur stepped in. "We'll get another space set up. You'll both be able to stay."

"Are you sure?" Ben asked skeptically.

"Absolutely," Charlotte affirmed. "Now, let's go in."

"It must have been more than shopping you were up to," Ben said to Charlotte as they crossed the threshold into cabin. "Because you look ghastly."

"I hope you're not picking up on Clark's bad manners, Benji," Charlotte warned wryly, "Or I might rescind the invitation to stay."

He shrugged, unconcerned. "Sorry, sis. It's only an observation."

Arthur turned his head to note what her brother saw. Her skin was paler than normal, circles darkened beneath her eyes and a smudge of rouge had smeared under her lip. Dark strands were loose from her usually neatly pinned hair.

Damn. He should have been paying more attention. He'd noticed she wasn't looking herself at the tailor's and Karen had informed him she hadn't slept.

Charlotte started for the spare bedroom. "I'll get the bed made up for you, Karen."

"No," Arthur stepped in front of her. "You're lying down for awhile, Charlotte."

She frowned. "I slept on the train."

"And you're still exhausted, just look at you. Settle down and I'll worry about fixing these two up."

Appalled, she rested a hand on her hip and that stubborn look started taking over her features. "What kind of hostess would I be if I just went to bed upon our guests' arrival?"

This was going to turn into a real argument, wasn't it? Before they could get into it, Karen involved herself by pushing Charlotte towards their bedroom. "You heard the man. Arthur can handle us."

Despite Charlotte's struggle against her, Karen succeeding in bullying her into the room and shutting the door, holding the knob from the outside so it couldn't be opened.

Ben watched the scene without interfering. "Charlotte's not going to like that."

"Yeah, I'll probably get an earful about it later, but she needs the rest." Arthur wouldn't worry about her yet, not until after her sleep. If she weren't any better in the morning, he was taking her to the doctor if he had to hogtie her to a horse to do it.

For now, Arthur focused on what he said he would do. "Karen, you wanna get a fire started in here?"

"Sure, Arthur." She moved from the door and Arthur half expected Charlotte to open it immediately, but it stayed shut.

Arthur turned to the brother. "Ben, you're comin' with me."

Ben started in bewilderment. "What? Where are we going?"

"If you're stayin', boy, you're workin'."

"On Christmas?"

That was dangerously close to sounding like whining and Arthur turned his head, narrowing his eyes.

Ben straightened up right quick at his glare. "Yes, sir. What did you have in mind?"

"We ain't gonna let that wolf meat and them pelts go to waste."

Eyeing Ben's finery, Arthur left the room to retrieve one of his extra pairs of gloves and a once dusty, old coat from the spare bedroom. The coat was one Charlotte had found in the shed from a previous occupier.

When he returned to Ben, the boy glanced at Karen and asked, "Where am I going to sleep, Arthur?"

He handed off the coat and gloves. "Charlotte can get you situated in the house later. Lady gets the room, but I figure we got a bedroll or extra bedding to set you up out here."

"I ain't no shrinking violet, Morgan." Karen, suddenly all charm, winked at Ben. "It ain't like I've never shared a bed before."

Ben fumbled in the middle of buttoning the coat, his eyes going wide and his face beet red.

"I'm sure." She was gonna scare the boy half to death if she went on. "For now, we're planning it my way."

Arthur sent Karen a warning glare and herded Ben out the door. As soon as they were a distance from the house, Arthur stopped Ben by laying a hand on his chest. He wanted to set something straight before they went further.

Ben gave him a questioning look.

"You mighta fooled your sister," Arthur said, "but you ain't fooled me. What you really doin' out here, kid?"

He blanched and Arthur wondered if he'd laid the intimidation on too thick. Ben swallowed slowly and cast a glance to the house. "You promise you won't make fun?"

"No."

Ben's eyes returned to him and he frowned.

Arthur sighed. "Alright, fine. What is it?"

"I never planned on staying with friends when Father said we weren't having Christmas at home. I always intended to visit you and Char."

"A little notice woulda been nice."

"Mother handles all the correspondences leaving the house. If her or Father suspected anything, they would have forced me on that ship, even with my aversion."

"Well, you're here now so I guess there ain't no harm as long as you get back okay." Arthur shook his head. "But I don't exactly understand the why of it."

Ben said quietly, "The family's never been split up like this before. Even after Char married Cal, they always stayed at the house from Christmas until the end of the year."

That statement confirmed what Arthur had reckoned was his own fault. Dorsch had canceled deliberately, to give Arthur the message he wasn't welcome. He wondered if Dorsch was aware his spite of Arthur had hurt his own children in the process.

Ben continued, "It's no fun spending Christmas without everyone around."

The kid was lonely. Probably ain't never been without his family before and Arthur found it a somewhat strange concept. He'd never missed life as a child, or his family. Must be what it was like when you had the safety of a house over your head and a parent or two who cared.

He'd been devastated after his mother's passing, but his father...well. The only feeling he'd got after his daddy been killed was relief.

Shaking off the past, Arthur clapped a hand on Ben's shoulder. "Well, I ain't sayin' you came to the right place, but you're welcome anyway. Charlotte's real happy to see you."

"I must admit, I was surprised you had another guest."

"Yeah, we weren't expectin' no one and now we got two of ya."

They walked on, stopping at the shed to grab the wheelbarrow. When they reached the first of the wolves, Ben spoke up again. "Why did Miss Jones call you Morgan?"

Shit. "Caught that, did you?"

"Is Callahan an alias?" he asked in shock.

"Well...yeah."

"Why do you need an alias?"

Last thing he wanted to do was go into all that, especially with Karen around. "I got, what your sister calls, an illustrious past."

"What does that mean?"

"Means I ain't done a lot of good in my life."

Ben's tone was skeptical. "I have a hard time believing that."

"Believe it, son." Arthur didn't know where this family got off thinking he was some kind of normal. "And don't tell no one else about it."

After that, Arthur and Ben focused on skinning the wolf and preserving the pelt. The animal unsurprisingly didn't have much for meat on its bones, but they kept what they could.

Arthur was glad this brother weren't the one who got faint at the sight of blood. Ben focused with studious intent at the job, leaving no room for more discussion on his past.

Ben was one of the better students Arthur ever had for teaching. Whenever he'd had to teach John something new, the man got frustrated if he didn't succeed the first attempt. Marston would always try once, fail and then throw around his temper like a goddamn child. He'd not try again for several days and, usually, not without Hosea's encouragement.

And Marston's son weren't much better. Jack was a good boy, but he got distracted easy and didn't take much interest in what was being taught. To be fair, Jack still had the excuse of being young. John had just been a stubborn bastard.

But Ben here listened close to Arthur's instruction on the cutting and followed his direction without trivial questions. Much like Charlotte. He wondered if that was part of their similar natures or a result of having a dictator for a daddy.

He and Ben loaded the meat and pelt and moved on to the second carcass. While Ben cut, Arthur kept a sharp eye out for the third wolf, but in the end they didn't run into any more trouble and the work kept Ben from talking too much.

Once they had the pelts and what meat they could use, Ben pushed the wheelbarrow up to the shed without being asked. Much as he was grateful for it, Arthur was still feeling a weariness spreading in his bones and a strain in his lungs as a subtle wheeze started.

"You two have a tree?"

Arthur coughed before asking, "What you mean?"

"You know, to decorate," Ben explained. "For Christmas. A Christmas tree."

"No." He added doubtfully, "You think Charlotte would want one?"

Ben passed him a knowing look and Arthur suddenly remembered Charlotte's sparkling eyes when they'd first reached Saint Denis. 'I love it', she'd said with a happy smile.

"A little one would do on short notice." Ben glanced around and pointed. "Like that one."

It was a small tree, hardly standing upright because of the snow piled up on it. Arthur was unsure if bringing in a sad-looking plant would brighten Charlotte's mood after being forced to rest, but it might be worth the attempt.

"Let's get the pelts put away and come back. I got a hatchet in the shed might take a little thing like that down."

Arthur cleared a space to hang the pelts and store the meat they wouldn't use tonight. The rest he handed off to Ben so Arthur could do the chopping. The tree was so small, it only took two good thwacks to cut through. He shook off the snow and they headed for the house at last, a couple hours having went by since they'd set out.

An aroma of seasoned meat and vegetables overpowered them on their entrance. Arthur hadn't had much of an appetite today, but the seasoned smell provoked his stomach into waking. Unsurprisingly, Charlotte stirred at something on the stove. Much as he'd hoped she'd remain in bed for the night, he hadn't really expected it.

The next thing Arthur noticed was the way the room had transformed. The dining table was now centered in the room to make way for bedding on the floor near, but not too close, to the fireplace. Four mismatched stockings were now homed over the mantel, miniature berries and leaves pinned to them decoratively.

At the table, Karen rolled her eyes and landed them in the direction of where Charlotte was setting down a large bowl of popcorn before returning her attention to the stove top. Apparently, Karen wasn't pleased she hadn't convinced Charlotte to rest for long.

Arthur didn't say a word and only because she was looking a little better. However short it was, Charlotte's nap had done her a world of good. Or maybe it was simply her change in appearance.

She had on new clothes, a shawl thrown over her shoulders for warmth, had tidied up her hair once more and washed away all evidence of a powdered face or crimson lips. It nearly convinced him her earlier weariness had been his imaginings except the dark circles under her eyes hadn't entirely faded.

On the table, an array of items covering the surface distracted him. Garland and ribbons mixed together. Multiple lines of thread and needles were laid out, with Karen working on one, sewing popcorn together.

Ben excitedly joined Karen at the table. "You two are making popcorn garlands, Char? Can I help?"

"Of course," Charlotte said with a smile.

Arthur, somewhat overwhelmed, asked, "What...is all this?"

"A few items to make it feel a little more festive."

When Charlotte's eyes fell on him, she'd taken a combative expression, like she thought he'd object to all of it, but when she saw what he had in his hands, her eyes widened and she quickened her step to him.

"What have you brought in?" Her eyes lit up as they met his. "Arthur."

Arthur tilted his head. "Er, it was your brother's idea more than mine."

Her eyes glistened as she commented softly, "This is wonderful."

While he'd went along with Ben's idea, he didn't think it would actually affect her so much. She stared in awe like he'd just handed her a piece of jewelry.

He shifted uncomfortably. "Where you want it?"

"Over here." She pointed to the side table by the door. From one of the cabinets, she produced a vase she used in the summer to house flowers from her garden. She guided the thin, branch-like trunk inside and stepped back to admire it. "Just the thing to complete the picture."

In Arthur's opinion, it was pretty pitiful, its branches lowered permanently from its former burden of wet snow and being too small in general. But Charlotte seemed entirely pleased with it.

She cast him a genuine smile that sent his heart pattering quicker. As he gazed at her, his body stirred. He wanted nothing more than to press her against the door and kiss her madly. 'Til he was sated and all the tension he had a hold of was released. Until he knew with absolute certainty this wasn't some elaborate dream and he was still locked up in Rhodes awaiting rescue.

Arthur was just thinking he was being foolish with these thoughts when her smile lowered, her gaze went to his mouth and he watched her eyes darken with the same desire.

He raised a hand to her cheek, watching it blossom pink as her warm breath whispered across his skin. She swayed in his direction...

...only to have Ben come up beside them, point at the tree and ask, "Do you want help decorating this?"

Charlotte peered up at Arthur, her eyes filled with regret. He sighed and lowered his hand as Charlotte turned to her brother. "Yes, grab one of those garlands."

Besides Ben interrupting them, and his presence making it a full house, Arthur was glad to have the boy here. He brought a light-hearted innocence to the day that they'd all been missing after the shit from this morning. It also helped that the boy was excited to be here, and his excitement bolstered Charlotte's joy too.

As the two siblings reminisced on how they usually decorated their tree back home, Arthur shed his coat and stopped by Karen. She had her bottle of whiskey she'd stolen from the tailor next to her, but she hadn't seemed to have touched it.

He ain't forgot the helpless tone she'd taken on the train when talking about her future. She wanted to do more with her life, but something was holding her back. She'd barely looked him in the eye since he'd saved her in the saloon and that weren't like her.

While the siblings decorated the dinky tree with the popcorn garland, Arthur moved closer to Karen. She was lost in thought, frowning. It was in stark contrast to the joy and light emanating from the other side of the room. A bold, brash and cheeky Karen Arthur was used to, not this shy, secretive woman who'd hardly said a word since they'd reached the cabin.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked directly.

She cast him a vexed glance. "Nothing."

"No, there's something." Arthur lowered his voice. "Maybe I can help."

"You're always trying to fix everything, Arthur," Karen pushed her needle a little too aggressively through a popcorn piece. "Maybe I can't be fixed."

He thought he knew what this melancholy was about. "I know you miss Sean, but you can't be drinking yourself to death over what's done."

Karen looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "The hell you talkin' about?"

Her tone had doubts creeping up, but he said, "You takin' to the bottle after Sean died. You were blasted most of the time at Beaver Hollow. Ain't no wonder why you don't remember the half of it."

"This, whatever you think it is, ain't never been about Sean," she replied in irritation. "Least, not all of it."

That left him baffled. "Then what is it?"

Karen refused to say anything else as she finished her garland, stood and handed it off to Ben and Charlotte. Arthur frowned, tried to scratch his beard before he remembered it was gone now and wondered what the hell that was all about.

Once the three finished their decorations, they all sat around the table for dinner. It was just a meat and vegetables stew, but with the herbs they'd stored, it was better than most of what Pearson had ever concocted, simple though it was.

Soon they finished eating and Arthur and Charlotte cleared the table together. Ben flourished a deck of cards and persuaded them all to partake in some poker. They didn't use money and they didn't have poker chips, but the extra unthreaded popcorn came in handy.

Arthur wouldn't call himself no great player, but these three made him look like an expert. Charlotte couldn't bluff her way through a hand, Karen couldn't stop bluffing, and Ben had a tell where he drummed his fingers excitedly when he was dealt good cards.

After a particularly unlucky few hands where Arthur kept folding and Ben ended up on a winning streak, Karen declared, "I don't know how you're doing it, but it must be cheating."

"Hand over the pot, Miss Jones." Ben grinned cheekily at her.

Karen picked up the popcorn poker chips, but paused before reaching her hand out. A devilish smile slipped her lips and she flung the handful his direction.

The action caused Ben's jaw to drop at her unladylike response as popcorn rained over his head. Then, without another moment's hesitation, he retaliated with his own handful. Arthur made to yell at them, when Charlotte joined in the fray and then chaos truly ensued. Popcorn was thrown every which way, the girls soon ducking under the table to avoid the attacks.

Once all the remaining popcorn only littered the floor, Charlotte laughingly ordered an end to the game. Not a moment too soon Arthur thought. By the end of that clean-up, Arthur was stifling more than one yawn.

He was about to call it a night when Ben asked, "Char, you still have that St. Nicholas poem you read every year?"

"I do." She replied, sweeping up the last of the popcorn into a bucket to feed to the birds later. "But isn't it a bit juvenile for Christmas stories before bed?"

"I know you're dying to read it," he wheedled. "I bet you have it memorized."

"I haven't."

"Come on, for old time's sake."

She glanced at Karen and Arthur and he raised a curious brow as Karen stated, "Don't break tradition over us."

Charlotte sighed, but Arthur thought it was more relief than reluctance. "Alright, fine. There's a copy on my bookshelf. It'll be between Chaucer and Dickens."

While they waited, Arthur settled into a chair. Puck, who'd hid in another room at the beginning of their popcorn war, jumped into his lap, curling up. Karen took another chair, lighting a cigarette. Charlotte spread her skirt on the floor, between the fireplace and Ben's makeshift bed.

Ben returned momentarily, handing Charlotte a pamphlet and settling on his blankets.

"'Twas the night before Christmas," Charlotte read, "when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse..."

The warmth of the crackling fire, the soft cadence of Charlotte's voice and the purring cat rumbling in his lap very quickly had Arthur relaxing. He tried listening, but soon his eyes grew heavy and the story grew further and further away...

Arthur awoke to hands massaging his shoulders. "Wha...?"

Arms crossed over his chest and Charlotte's soft voice tickled his ear. "Come on, Arthur. To bed now."

Puck was no longer in his lap so Charlotte helped him to his feet. The room was dark except for the fireplace. Ben was turned away on the floor, snoring lightly and Karen was nowhere to be found. He stumbled in the doorway to their bedroom, hitting his arm hard enough to express a groan.

Charlotte was at his side in an instant, scolding, "I can't believe you ordered me to nap earlier when you're death walking."

"Darlin', I've been death walkin' for awhile now," he mumbled.

"Oh, none of that now. It's not the night for morose musings."

Charlotte helped him undress and change into his long johns. He fought to keep his eyes open, wanting to have a conversation about...something. He couldn't think past the heaviness in his head and staying conscious any longer was inevitably a losing battle.

Too soon, Charlotte was drawing the covers up and whispering, "Good night, Arthur."

He muttered an inscrutable reply as exhaustion at last had its way with him and he drifted to sleep, settling his brain for a long winter's nap.