Arthur thought he'd finally managed to pull one over on Charlotte by giving her two presents, but she came back with her own surprise up her sleeve.

She revealed a last box, small, white and tidily wrapped in a simple ribbon. Before he could make his objections, she scolded, "You've given me two gifts so no fussing."

He quirked a grin. "Yes, ma'am."

Arthur opened the box, which appeared aged and worn, and his brow furrowed at what he found. Inside were two frilled lace stockings, which was odd in itself, but the pair were also small, as if for a doll. "Uh, darlin', I don't think these are gonna fit me."

Charlotte gripped his hand, met his gaze and said softly, "That's because they're not yours to wear, Arthur. Aunt Rosie gifted them to me when I was born."

Not for a doll.

For a baby.

As the significance hit him like a freight train, his eyes widened and his mouth gave way to a dropped jaw. "You're...?"

She smiled and raised a hand to caress his chin. "Yes, Arthur."

"You're sure?"

"I'll know for a certainty when I see a physician, but I'm confident enough to inform you of its existence."

His palms started sweating, the room seemed be getting smaller, and he asked with a thick tongue, "How long you known?"

"I only just put it together after our little adventure." Charlotte tilted her head, studying him. "Do you recall my nausea over the seafood in Saint Denis?"

Arthur mumbled, "We both lost our appetite over it."

She scrunched up her face. "My constant weeping over silly things."

"I ain't seen you cryin' much more than usual," he protested, maybe in denial more than anything.

She ticked off her finger. "The fainting in the jailhouse."

"That's a sign of pregnancy?"

"It can be," she said affirmatively. "And then yesterday at the tailor, when you mentioned I felt fevered. That's when I knew for sure."

Pregnant. It was the whole goddamn reason he'd stayed unattached as long as he had. It was why, before Charlotte, Arthur only had his eyes set on one woman if he did choose to settle down. With his illness, it'd never crossed his mind he could get her pregnant, but truthfully, he hadn't given it a thought at all. He was a damn fool and now he'd doomed her.

Arthur pulled her into a hug, clutching her tight. She seemed to sense the reveal had him overly moved.

"Are you okay with this?" she asked in his ear.

Can we go fish, Pa?

He buried his face in her neck, suppressing memories eager to plague in his mind. "Can't do nothin' to stop it now."

She brushed her fingers through his hair. "No, but something's bothering you."

"You don't wanna know." The truth was he didn't want to tell her, to expose how ill-fitted he was for this sort of situation.

"I always want to know what you're thinking, Arthur," she said softly. "Tell me. Let me help you work through it."

Silence met her request.

"Are you afraid?" she asked, nailing it on the head first guess. "Because you have nothing to fear as I'm certain you'll make a wonderful father, Arthur."

Can we go fish, Pa?

Arthur gritted his teeth. "No, I damn well won't 'cause I ain't gonna be here."

Her heard the frown in her voice as she asked, "Are you planning to leave?"

Why the hell would she think that? "Not voluntarily."

"Then what do you mean?"

Arthur pulled back and stared at her. "Charlotte, I'm dyin'."

Her expression cleared and she said, as if it weren't no big deal, "Oh, that."

Only she could shrug off imminent death like it weren't nothing. It'd be damned comical if he weren't getting so pissed off. "Yes, that. I ain't gonna be in this kid's life. The TB'll take me long before I'll ever..."

Can we go fish, Pa? Please, the child's voice echoed, far away and in his ear at the same time.

"Arthur, you can't be sure—"

Arthur already knew what she meant to say and he broke their embrace and stood so abruptly she recoiled onto the bed. "I can't be no goddamn daddy!"

He burst out the bedroom, making for the back door and plunging into the winter cold. An additional two inches of snow covered the ground since last night so his boots crunched as he strode to the horse shelter.

Jane and Vee shifted at his sudden appearance, disturbed until he rubbed down one and then the other in reassurance. He pressed his face in Jane's shoulder momentarily, taking in a deep breath of horse smell as he tried to quiet the anxiety in his mind and the excess emotion humming through his body.

Damn fool that he was, he'd bounded out of the house without a coat, but he preferred a moment to himself than to go back in for it. He plopped down in hay and pressed his palms into his eyes so hard it hurt and he saw spots.

"Shit."

Him a daddy again? It weren't supposed to happen. It was too late in his godforsaken life and there ain't no getting past that. To add to it, Charlotte didn't want to face the reality of his situation. That he wouldn't live long enough to teach the kid nothing or see 'em grow. Tears pricked his eyes.

But the worst thing about it was Arthur knew he wasn't deserving. He'd had his chance at fatherhood and he'd failed that life test. Failed it in the worst possible way. Isaac...it hadn't been right what had happened to that boy.

After a few minutes, Arthur heard the back door open and Charlotte emerged. He looked away, embarrassed, until the crunching of her boots stopped near him. She had his coat in hand and passed it over to him. There was no judgment in her expression, but he didn't expect there to be. He'd never known no one so calm about his temper. He swung his coat on and instead of leaving him, she sat, unfurling a blanket he hadn't seen her carrying at first. She silently held the corner for him to take.

He sighed deeply and with resignation before accepting it. Charlotte scooted underneath the blanket and closer to him.

They sat side by side for awhile. Coulda been ten minutes, maybe thirty, but long enough that the sky had clouded over and light snowflakes were making an appearance. She knew him too well by now. That it was easier for him to come around on his own after he stewed.

Finally, he rubbed his temple and said quietly, "I didn't mean to snap. I'm sorry."

"I know, Arthur." She squeezed his arm. "Please tell me what's going on. I don't understand."

He took in a breath and as he released it, it came out shaky. This was something he'd kept close to his chest. It hurt too much to hold on to, but his throat burned at the thought of speaking the words. Yet Charlotte had every right to a reason for his outburst.

Finally, his words tumbled out on their own accord. "I had a son, long time ago."

Charlotte found his hand under the blanket and clutched it. "What happened?"

"I-I weren't there to protect him." He tightened his grip, needing an anchor to the present. "Him and his momma...they was killed in a robbery."

"Arthur, I'm sorry." Her other hand began soothing strokes down his arm. "That's an unbelievably tragic fate, especially for a child."

"It was all my fault."

Her brow furrowed and her hand stopped. "In what way?"

"If I'd been there..." Arthur swallowed. "I coulda saved them."

"Possibly." Charlotte tilted her head and said reasonably, "Or you might have been killed as well."

"Least I woulda died doin' the right thing." It was one of the biggest regrets of his life. Why couldn't he have just stayed put for once? For all the shit he gave Marston over Jack, he wished someone had been in his life to give it to him worse over Isaac. He didn't know if he woulda listened, but maybe guilt and his own sense of duty would have been enough.

"We're all burdened with days we wish we could have changed." Charlotte rested her head on his shoulder. "But it isn't possible and as the living, we have to make do with our remaining time on this Earth."

"I s'pose."

Silence fell between them again, but this one more comfortable since he'd been able to get off his chest some of his pain. Charlotte was warm on his arm as he rested his chin lightly on her head. The snowflakes ended their delicate descent, the clouds clearing to make way for the sun as it glittered its rays across the snow on the ground again.

"In all honesty," Charlotte said unexpectedly, "this wasn't easy for me to accept either."

Arthur couldn't see her face, but he heard the discomfort in her tone and he wondered at it. When he shifted, she wouldn't meet his eyes.

"I..." Her voice had gone real quiet. "For a long while, I believed I was unable to-to carry a child."

It was something she was having trouble speaking about, if even he could catch the difficulty of her speech. He asked gently, "Why?"

"It does happen to women sometimes," she continued as she picked at her skirt. "Cal and I were married for six years. We discussed children, but only in hypotheticals as nothing ever came of our attempts." She released a breath. "I'd come to terms with the idea of never becoming a mother."

So for her, this was a miracle and Arthur knew he should have a measure of her joy. But all he felt was dread, not for the child's sake, but for Charlotte and what her future would be.

Arthur rubbed his thumb over her hand. "It ain't that I don't want this child, but you're eventually gonna be doin' this alone and that ain't fair to you."

"I understand your concern, Arthur, but I don't share it."

"Charlotte..."

"Arthur," she stopped him firmly. "I see no point in discussing matters in which we cannot have the answer to until they are upon us years from now."

"You know I ain't got that kinda time."

"I don't know and neither do you. That is the point," she told him with a fierceness she rarely displayed against him. "Besides, even if there was little time left, you can't spend it worrying any minute could be your last."

Maybe she was right. And there didn't seem to be any point in arguing it.

"As I've told you before," she said firmly, "I believe your life is far from over."

She'd said those words to him, months ago now, when he'd been uncertain of...everything. How he wanted to continue his second chance at life and if he even wanted to involve her in those plans.

"Come." She tugged his hand, postponing any more disagreement. "Let's head inside so neither of us catches a chill."

Arthur stood, pulling her up. As she folded the blanket, he moved to Vee to give him a quick pat down, his mind running through this situation he'd found himself in. He would have to rethink some of his actions, to take into consideration every decision he made with Charlotte in mind. For one, he couldn't leave her by herself anymore, especially when her condition became obvious.

Once he provided a parting pat to Jane, Charlotte mused, "I think you'd live in this little stable if you could."

"Maybe," he conceded, smiling at her. "If you'd live with me."

She cast her eyes to the house. "It certainly would offer more privacy at the moment."

"You just say the word, ma'am, and I'll kick them two out."

Charlotte laughed, light and airy. "Now, now. We mustn't be ungracious to our visitors on Christmas."

"Tomorrow then," he offered, only half-joking.

"As tempting as that prospect is," she said, amused, "I think we can manage."

Before they left, he wanted to reassure Charlotte he'd taken her words to heart. How did he tell her that he'd do his damnedest to extend whatever miserable life he had left? For her. For the babe.

"Charlotte."

She turned her head. "Yes?"

"I love you," he said simply, but it wasn't enough and she was right about their lack of privacy.

Still, Arthur wouldn't leave her with nothing. He lowered his head and glided his lips over hers. He cupped her cheek and she clamped her hand on his wrist, not allowing him to pull away easily.

He'd been missing this. It'd been ages since his lips had touched hers, since he'd held her, since her breath mingled with his.

If this structure were closed off, if the air and ground weren't cold and snowy, he'd have his way with her right here.

Instead, Arthur settled for heated kisses with Charlotte clinging to him. When he acknowledged they'd have to come up for air, he slowed down their rhythm and separated from her gradually.

She breathed, "I love you too, Arthur."

Arthur rested his forehead on hers, gazing into her green eyes up close. He may fumble his way through damn near everything regarding her, but he knew how his heart lay with Charlotte. He knew he was right where he was supposed to be.

Hand in hand, they returned to the house. As Arthur opened the back door, he caught the tail end of a conversation between Karen and Ben.

"Will Arthur agree to what?" Arthur repeated the words he'd heard out of Ben's mouth as he stepped over the threshold.

Ben jumped, but Karen slid a challenging look his way. "Going to a party."

He grimaced. "What party?"

"In Annesburg," Ben supplied, Karen's lack of fear seeming to bolster his boldness. "'The Christmas Extravaganza', they call it."

"Where the hell you hear about that?"

Ben informed him, "When I stepped off the train, the paper boy handed me a pamphlet about it."

"Come on, Arthur," Karen cajoled. "Let's head into town and have some fun."

"The kinda fun you like always gets you and everyone else into trouble."

Charlotte said, "It's a small town event. I don't see what harm could befall us."

Since she'd betrayed him, Arthur sent her a glare, but she only responded with an innocent smile. She'd just told him she was pregnant and she wanted to mingle with a bunch of drunken hillbillies?

Ben was the next to test him. "We should celebrate the day in some way."

Three sets of eyes were watching Arthur, waiting for a decision. All he wanted was time to relax at home, preferably with Charlotte at his side. Yet he seemed to be outnumbered in this situation and without a reason for nay-saying besides his own preference.

"Fine, goddammit," he grumbled. "I'll go saddle the horses."

"I'll help!" Ben jumped in eagerly, plucking up his coat.

Charlotte spared him a pity peck on the cheek and turned to Karen. "Miss Jones, let us freshen up a bit in the meantime."

"This will be a grand ole time, Arthur," said Karen. "Don't be such a grump."

"Yeah, yeah."

He and Ben made their way to the shed for the saddles. While doing so, Ben asked curiously, "How well do you know Miss Jones?"

"She's an old friend." Arthur pointed, cautioning, "I recommend you stay away from her, if you know what's good for you."

Ben straightened, at once offended for whatever reason. "My intentions towards Miss Jones are nothing but honorable."

"I ain't her daddy and I ain't worried 'bout your intentions." Arthur entered the shed, lifted a saddle and Ben mimicked the motion with the second. "If anything, it'll be Karen who eats you alive."

Unfortunately, Arthur's warning only seemed to spark the interest in Ben's eyes rather than douse it. He shoulda known better. He'd been young once and chased the women who'd seemed most challenging.

"Just be careful 'round her is all," he advised, leaving the shed. Ben was more likely to get his pocketbook stolen than anything, but if Arthur admitted that, it might be an invite to an uncomfortable line of questioning.

Ben contemplated his words seriously. "Arthur, would you answer me something else?"

Arthur frowned. "Yeah?"

"Are you a spy or a detective or—"

"What the hell you goin' on about?" Arthur interrupted, not following. This boy could jump topics like a trained circus dog.

"Do you know Allan Pinkerton?" he asked excitedly, confusing Arthur a hell of a lot more.

"Pinkerton?" Just saying the name left a bad taste in his mouth. "Where's this coming from?"

"You read about the Pinkertons in the news all the time, busting up gangs and taking down criminals of all sorts. Did you used to work for them?"

Arthur threw the saddle over Vee, trying not to cringe at Ben's words. "I ain't involved with no goddamn Pinkertons."

"Oh." Ben paused, clearly disappointed. "If you were, I was hoping for a reference to join the organization. It'd be a waste of all the money Father put towards school, but—"

"No," Arthur cut in, taking the saddle from the young man's hands. "Don't get yourself mixed in with their lot. They ain't as pristine as they seem."

Ben's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

The scene of Agent Milton's casual disregard for Hosea's life remained scorched in his mind forever. First, disbelief at the spilling of Hosea's blood and his collapse. Disbelief had sunk into devastation before all thought fled while the gang tore from the area.

"The shit they do is sometimes worse than the crimes of the people they go after. Not by much maybe, but it's a dirty business that ain't meant for the likes of you."

"Are you sure you weren't in the organization? You can tell me if you are. I can keep your secrets."

Arthur saddled Jane next, rubbing her down when she turned her head for attention. "I ain't sure you can, but I assure you I ain't never been with them bastards."

"So, what did you used to do?"

Arthur served him silence, keeping his hands busy by needlessly adjusting the saddle. If he wasn't detailing it with Charlotte, there was no way he was telling her brother.

"I'll figure it out," Ben said with the utmost confidence. "I like mysteries."

Arthur shook his head. "Let it alone, son."

"Does Charlotte know your secret?"

"She knows enough."

"I guess that's something," Ben said, facing him with a serious expression. "My sister's lost a lot this year. I'm grateful she's had you here."

Gratitude only went so far. Arthur wanted to promise Charlotte's brother that he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, that he expected to live a long, healthy life with Charlotte and the baby.

But Arthur couldn't lie, not about this. So, he let the boy prattle on about spies and detectives and wished that holding onto secrets were the most of his worries.