"It's too early."
Arthur's heart beat hard in his ears at the tremble in Charlotte's voice. His blood rushed like it did just before a gunfight and with it, the usual tide of calm followed, keeping him level-headed and above panic.
"Let's get you to the house," Arthur instructed, taking her by the elbow and leading her to the front door.
Their sudden entrance had Karen turning around from the stove. "What the hell—"
"The baby," Arthur cut in shortly, which had Karen abandoning her cooking and coming around the table to their side.
Charlotte fretted, "Something's not right."
"Take a breath, sweetie," Karen ordered. "And then tell me what you're feeling."
Charlotte obeyed her direction, breathing in a long intake of air and then releasing it. "Cramping. And..." Her forehead wrinkled. "...pressure."
"Hmm. That sounds like the starting of labor alright," Karen stated, matter-of-fact.
"But it's too soon," Charlotte protested.
"No, it ain't," Karen refuted. "You're a little early, but still in the time frame your daddy predicted."
"I suppose that's true..." Charlotte accepted reluctantly. "Perhaps you're right."
"Damn right I am." Karen grasped her shoulders and directed her to the bedroom. "Go lie down and we'll take this one step at a time."
Charlotte nodded. "Okay."
Arthur couldn't help mentioning, "She s'posed to be that pale though?"
Karen shot him a glare over Charlotte and he repressed a flinch. "She's fine, Arthur."
Charlotte continued to the bedroom and Arthur made to follow, but Karen pulled him by the arm as he walked by. Quietly, she told him, "I know you mean well, Arthur, but I can't have you in there."
"What?" he asked, indignant. "Why not?"
"If you're in there pacing and pulling your hair out, she ain't gonna concentrate on the birth. She'll be too damn worried over you."
He glared at Karen, generating as much of an intimidating presence as he could. "I ain't leavin' her side. Especially for this."
Karen straightened to her full height and poked his chest. "You'll damn well do as you're told if you want this to be a smooth birth for her."
Arthur flinched back, as if struck.
She told him dismissively, "Go keep company with your horses for awhile and I'll call you in when I need you."
He looked over Karen's shoulder at Charlotte getting comfortable on the bed. He noted a spasm of pain flit across her face before she replaced it with a smile his way, proving Karen's point that she'd try to be strong for him over herself.
In a softer tone, Karen said, "Trust me to do this, Arthur."
She seemed confident and if he'd detected any doubt, he would have stood there and argued further.
"How long's it gonna take?"
Karen crossed her arms. "You know it don't work like that, Arthur."
Maybe he should feel offended Karen only saw him as useless in this situation, but more than anything he was relieved to have the responsibility falling to someone else with more knowledge. Sure, he'd seen plenty in the birth of animals in his lifetime, but he didn't know enough not be stricken with fear at the sight of Charlotte in any sort of suffering.
"Gimme a minute."
Arthur moved around Karen and approached Charlotte on the bed. He did his best to hide from her the panicked thoughts racing through his mind. He picked up her hand and said, "Karen's gonna take care of you from here."
She smiled and squeezed his hand in return. "Don't go too far."
To Karen, he said, "You need anything, you holler. Ya hear?"
"I will," she promised.
Before he could think of changing his mind, Karen was pushing him out the door and shutting it at his back.
Arthur dawdled in the kitchen, taking off the pot of water Karen had left boiling on the stove. It was hard for him to believe just this morning he'd been asking her advice on how to propose to Charlotte. Now, she was barking at him to keep away. Sure was a strange end to what was supposed to have been a relaxing rest of the night.
For awhile, he kept busy in the kitchen, waiting for Karen to call him back into the room to help. But the call never came and being this near only had his nerves fraying, wondering what was happening. Karen weren't wrong about him too anxious to be in the room. He found himself pacing, removing his hat and running a hand through his hair just as she predicted.
When he couldn't take being only a few steps from bursting into the room to find out what was going on, Arthur took a trip out to the stable to distract himself. He lit a lantern to brighten the inside of the building and greeted the two horses.
He took his time brushing down Vee and then Jane. With how slowly he worked through every knot, it calmed him. The horses ended up with the shiniest coats and manes they'd ever had.
Next, he kept busy checking each of their hooves and mentally noting any that might need re-shoeing in the near future. He cleaned the area, forked some hay and gave the two horses another few minutes of attention each before he finished up.
Arthur paused outside on his way to the shed, listening for any yelling from the house, but he heard none of it so he continued on, not necessarily reassured. Inside the shed, he uncovered the wooden crib he'd built. He'd completed its construction and showed it to Charlotte a few days ago. Not a moment too soon, it seemed.
Maybe he could bring it to the house while he waited and use his trip inside as a way to check up on the two women. Decided, he started to maneuver it out the door, hefting it across the yard and into the house. He left the crib next to the dining table, took a moment to catch his breath and then strode to the bedroom. He swung the door in, mouth open, ready to override Karen's objections if he needed to.
But she didn't spare him a glance, preoccupied at the basin set up on the dresser across the bedroom.
Before he could rightfully process what she was doing, Charlotte called weakly, "Arthur."
A sheet covered her now, the rest of the bedding, except the pillows under her head, were stripped and thrown into a corner of the room.
Arthur slipped to Charlotte's side, taking her hand in his and with his other gliding his fingers through her hair. The strength of Charlotte's returning grip reassured him like nothing else that could. He'd feared the worst at her exhausted expression, paleness of her skin and sweat on her brow.
"You alright?" he asked, just to be sure.
Charlotte offered him a smile. "Perfectly well. But how's the baby?"
Arthur's worry for Charlotte had eclipsed the reason of its origin until that moment. He faced Karen, her arms full of a blanketed bundle, which must be the baby. "Should it be that quiet?"
"Seems to be by choice." Karen answered without a shred of concern. "I reckon she'll open her mouth when she's got something to say."
She. A little girl.
"You ready to hold her, momma?" Karen asked of Charlotte.
Charlotte rested her hand on his forearm. "Let Arthur hold her first."
"Me?" Arthur asked in surprise.
"Sit, Arthur," Karen ordered so he perched beside Charlotte on the bed as Karen handed him the little bundle. "Time to meet your daughter."
And then she was in his arms and he was overwhelmed by everything about her. The lightness of her weight, her pink skin and the dark tuft of hair on her head. Her eyes were still shut tight, but her mouth opened and a tiny tongue poked out. She was smaller than Isaac, smaller than Jack and Arthur couldn't look away.
Beside him, Charlotte sat up and murmured, "So precious."
There was a lump in his throat, but Arthur nodded his agreement.
"I'll say," Karen answered for him, wiping her hands on a towel and then moving to fold a sheet. "Hope you two figured out a decent name after all that rifling through that name book."
Charlotte tilted her head, catching his eye and Arthur nodded wordlessly, allowing her to be the one to reveal it.
"We're naming her after the two best aunts I know. Eleanor Rose."
Karen froze on what she was doing and faced them. "I told you Eleanor was a stupid name."
A little amusement broke through the weariness in Charlotte's features. "Actually, I believe what you said is she'd be 'doomed'."
"She will," Karen insisted. "And it's a mouthful besides."
"Well, we think it's lovely."
Karen stared at Charlotte and then her gaze went to the little body Arthur held. She said softly, "You know...she could go by Nora. It's luckier and it's gotten me out of a bind or two."
"Nora," Arthur mumbled and at that moment the baby's eyes opened, as if she already recognized it as her name.
When she was ready, Karen helped Arthur move baby Nora to Charlotte's awaiting arms and then she left the room, muttering an unintelligible excuse about their privacy. Seemed to him she was blinking her eyes too much so he was thinking she left for her own sake rather than theirs.
"Isn't she lovely, Arthur?" Charlotte asked him, just as entranced by the baby.
"Yes," he said quietly, his heart pinching as he recalled the one other child he knew as his own. Truth be told, he'd not seen Isaac this small. By the time he'd returned to Eliza, she'd already had Isaac for a month and settled in a routine, but it was all so long ago now. For all he knew, maybe his memory was slipping and Isaac had been small. It had him wondering if watching this child grow would make him forget his first.
Charlotte's hand suddenly covered his. "Having another child won't diminish the memories of your son, Arthur."
How she always know what he was thinking? Her assurance relieved him enough to believe her. As he sat there watching Charlotte holding their daughter with the same shared awe, all his promises to her, to himself, finally felt worthwhile.
OOOOOOOOO
Arthur had thought he'd known exhaustion. From the times when he'd had to run endlessly to escape the law, to staying up all night on guard duty and then spending the next day occupied in some shootout with O'Driscolls, to pushing himself further and further even after being diagnosed with TB.
He didn't know a goddamn thing.
The novelty of a quiet newborn wore off real fast and then he and Charlotte discovered the less talked about hardships of caring for a baby. Besides Jack, Arthur didn't know much about living with an infant, but he sure was thrown in headfirst into learning.
Unfortunately for him, hearing Karen read aloud about child-rearing all those months and experiencing it firsthand were two entirely different situations. While Hosea and Dutch had made sure he'd never been against book-learning, a little more warning of what was to come from one of those godawful novels would have been preferable.
Turned out, Karen was a little too close to the mark when she'd said Nora would open her mouth when she was ready to make herself heard. He and Charlotte took turns waking when Nora's cries broke through the night. For two months straight, day and night, Nora woke them every few hours to be fed or changed.
If Karen weren't with them, Arthur didn't know how they would have got through. The constant waking cycle had him unable to get anything else done, including meals. Karen took care of it all and she picked up the work around the property and jumped in to help with Nora when neither he nor Charlotte could manage from exhaustion.
Arthur didn't know either how Charlotte stayed so patient through it all. The shrills of the crying in the middle of the night whenever he'd just fallen into a deep asleep were enough to drive him straight to temper. But somehow Charlotte always managed to keep calm as she wearily crawled from bed and greeted Nora in even tones.
When he'd given in and asked her about it churlishly one early morning, she'd said, "It's the only way she knows as of now how to get our attention."
After that simple explanation, he tried not to let Nora's cries put him in too sour a mood, even if he never did get used to it.
A windy fall blew in by month three of Nora's life, but with it some relief. Mercifully, she'd started sleeping through the night, relieving them of their strained nights. Next, Nora learned how to smile and won him over as completely as when he'd first laid eyes on her.
One morning, after Karen picked up the baby from their room, she out of the blue stated to them, "I got something to tell you."
"'Bout what?" Arthur asked distractedly.
He and Charlotte sat at the table, both busy with the same task. Her folks had sent along a huge trunk of baby supplies that had been specially delivered all the way out here. Mostly, it contained toys Nora was still too young to be entertained by and clothes she couldn't yet fit, but Charlotte was touched by the gesture, even if all Arthur saw it as was something he needed to find a place to store for now.
Karen continued, "I know I told the two of you I'd stay on..."
"Sure," Arthur acknowledged.
"And it ain't that I'm ungrateful..."
At her strange tone, Arthur stopped rummaging through the trunk and looked up. "Yeah? Quit beatin' around the bush and spit it out, Karen."
"Arthur," Charlotte admonished lightly. "Let her speak at her own pace."
"Sorry." He shrugged. "Just ain't ever known you to be timid."
"This ain't easy," Karen said with a hint of temper. She took a moment to breathe in and exhale. "Something's come up."
Arthur caught Charlotte's eye and she gave him the look. Of which he knew could only mean one thing.
Karen had been acting distant for awhile, distracted. He and Charlotte suspected the reason. They'd been anticipating this conversation for a few weeks now.
Charlotte asked gently, "Does this have something to do with those mysterious letters you've been sending back and forth to my aunt?"
Karen swallowed and averted her eyes. "Yes."
"What has she asked you to do?"
Karen confessed reluctantly, "Play nurse to get her out of Schofield."
"How positively devious of her."
"She...also expects me to live with her for a year."
"So you mean to leave us high and dry?" Arthur couldn't help goading.
Charlotte sent him another look before she turned to Karen. "With a wage, I'm assuming?"
Karen nodded.
"Then you have our full approval."
"What?" Karen looked up, shocked. "Really?"
Charlotte said with contemplation, "Rosie liked Schofield at first. I think it was a great help when she was sicker and needed the constant care. But over the years, I've noticed in her letters she hasn't praised the facility in quite the same way."
"She didn't want to tell you," Karen admitted. "She thought you'd feel obligated to help."
"She's right. I would have, but she's prideful enough that she wouldn't have accepted it anyway." Charlotte frowned when Karen released a loud sigh of relief. "Were you afraid to tell me?"
"I didn't want you to think I was taking advantage of your family."
"Karen." Charlotte turned up a bright smile. She strode to her and hugged her shoulders since Karen still cradled Nora. "If you and Rosie have chosen each other for companionship, nothing makes me happier. After all, I consider you the sister I never had."
"That's a stupid thing to say," Karen sniffled.
Arthur shook his head. Like she didn't feel the same.
Karen assured them, "But I won't go nowhere until you two are ready."
OOOOOOOOO
Karen left the following week. Despite her eagerness for trying out her own new life, Arthur saw she was just as reluctant start it. She lingered with them at the train station in Annesburg, prolonging the goodbyes.
Finally, Charlotte laughed, "They'll have you riding in the caboose if you don't get a move on, Karen."
"Yeah, yeah." Karen went in for a hug.
Charlotte held her tight for a moment before leaning back, asking with concern, "You're absolutely sure you'll be alright in Chicago?"
Karen raised a brow. "You mean, will I be tempted to drink myself stupid every night with so many options available to me?"
Charlotte protested, "I didn't intend it that brashly."
"Sure..." Karen laughed and then grew thoughtful. "I don't know how it'll turn out, but I sure as hell can't find out unless I try."
"Well, you're always welcome back here," Charlotte told her warmly. "I wish you all the best."
Arthur had a hold of Nora and she started whimpering as if she knew what was going on.
"One last spin for auntie." Karen took the fussing baby out of his arms and made a slow twirl. "There's one more smile for me."
She passed the baby off to Charlotte and Arthur helped Karen with one of her luggage bags. He followed her to the train's steps. "We're sure gonna miss you around here, Miss Jones."
She rolled her eyes. "Free labor and childcare. Why wouldn't you?"
"You know what I mean."
Karen's gaze went to Charlotte and Nora. She said seriously, "You ever need me out here again, you let me know."
"I think we'll manage." He joked, "I ain't totally useless."
"Not just with the kiddo," Karen's eyes shifted to him. "I mean if you get into some kind of trouble too."
"I'm hopin' those days is gone for good."
"Dutch and Micah are still out there," she reminded him bluntly. "Maybe Dutch won't bother seeking you out, but you and I both know Micah's a wild bastard with a bone to pick. Especially with you."
"I know," Arthur glanced at Charlotte, making sure she was out of earshot. "The sheriff and gunsmith will warn me if someone of his likeness comes through."
"Smart."
"Like I said, I ain't totally useless."
She rested a hand on his arm. "You two take care out here. Don't get any notions of running off without telling me."
"Sure." It wasn't a thought in his mind. He wasn't going nowhere. "You make sure to focus on yourself."
"Oh, I intend to, Arthur." She winked as the train whistle sharply split the air.
And then Karen Jones was off on her own. They waved to the train until it was out of sight and Arthur silently wished all the best for her.
He wasn't worried for her. Maybe Rosie was getting the better deal of the two of them, pulled out of Schofield and living in her own house again, but Arthur could guarantee Karen wouldn't hesitate in making it worth her while.
OOOOOOOOO
A morning in the middle of November, an unexpected visitor dropped in at Willard's Rest. Arthur was crouched at the side of the wagon, examining a loose wheel that had been plaguing him for days. By this point, he'd grown frustrated enough that he was ready to scrap the whole thing for firewood.
A gentle clopping from down the hill caught his attention. He stood, waiting for the visitor or intruder to emerge over the ridge. He saw long, dark hair first, but recognized the spotted white and brown coat of the horse before the man.
Taima.
Arthur grinned and raised a hand. "Charles."
Charles returned a wave and dismounted near Arthur. "I was hoping you'd be up here. It's been awhile, my friend."
"Too long," Arthur agreed, shaking his hand. "What you doin' in these parts?"
"I've been...traveling lately," Charles said, close-mouthed.
"Okay." Arthur tilted his head and said, "Let's set Taima up in back. Then you can come in and tell us about it."
"Sure."
Arthur had always been slightly envious of Charles over Taima. She was a beautiful and well-mannered horse. An Appaloosa that didn't scare easily, which he had firsthand knowledge of. He wished he still had the physical strength to go hunt and tame a beast of that quality for himself. Although, there weren't nothing wrong with the two he had now.
"What brings you up here?" Arthur asked once they were heading for the house.
He said, "For one thing, I wanted to check up on how everything turned out for you."
"Well, I'm still standin' so it ain't all bad."
"I see."
Charlotte must have heard them talking because she came out with the rifle in her hands, serious and tense until her eyes fell on Charles.
Then her face broke into a smile and she lowered the gun. "Oh. Hello, Charles. What a welcome surprise."
Charles glanced at the rifle and then to Arthur. "Were you two expecting someone else?"
Should he explain to Charles that since Karen's absence, they'd both been more on edge? That Karen leaving had been a guardian lost from this safe haven?
"Let's just say we ain't takin' chances around here."
"Hmm," Charles replied in that noncommittal way of his. "I see."
"I'm just about to set up lunch. Won't you come in?" Charlotte invited.
Charles nodded. "I'd be honored. Thank you."
Once inside, Arthur observed Charles' tense stance, realizing this wasn't only a social call. Arthur didn't like prancing around subjects so he asked directly, "So, what can I do you for?"
Charles removed the small satchel from his shoulder and held it out for Arthur to take. "First, a gift. From Rains Fall. A few tonics, a salve and the recipe to make some more. He said it should help suppress your coughs."
Remembering the painful struggle of the past winter, he was humbled by Rains Fall's thoughtfulness. "You'll have to thank him for me."
"If I'm back up north again, I shall. But I'm thinking of staying down here for now."
"That so?"
Nora started crying from the other room, waking from her nap. Charlotte left them to tend to her as Arthur asked, "Where you thinkin' of settling?"
Charles had been distracted by Charlotte leaving. "Is that an infant?"
"Yeah."
Charles sent him an incredulous look, as if seeing him in a new light.
"What?"
"Nothing." Charles lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Just...that's quite the commitment. Last we spoke you weren't completely sure you even going to stay here."
Arthur sighed. "Yeah, well. You were right about a lot of things, Charles, and a lot's changed since then besides."
"So I've heard." A dark eyebrow rose. "You run into some trouble down in Rhodes?"
"Where you hear that?"
"Ran into Pearson at the general store."
"Yeah," Arthur admitted. "He weren't wrong to call it trouble. They got double the reason now not to like me down there."
"And Annesburg a few months ago?"
Arthur shook his head. "What, you turn into some sort of gossip since I saw you last?"
Charles cracked a smile on one corner of his mouth. "No. I listen."
Arthur sighed. "Yeah, there was trouble in town, but it was related to what happened in Rhodes so it's all one big mess. Or it was."
Charlotte re-entered the room with Nora and Charles straightened in his chair, tilting his head and regarding the baby.
Catching his interest, Charlotte offered, "Would you like to hold her, Charles?"
Charles' eyes widened as if he hadn't expected the question. "Hold her?"
Charlotte smiled, clearly humored. "She's quite harmless, I promise."
Charles said hesitantly, "I'm not sure it's such a good idea."
"She don't bite," Arthur added with a half grin. "Least not yet. She ain't got the teeth for it."
"No. That's fine."
Charlotte didn't pressure Charles any further, but cradled the baby and cooed at her.
Charles turned his attention back to the conversation. "You seen any other old friends?"
"A couple weeks sooner and you coulda visited with Karen."
"She made it out okay?"
"Barely. Had her over for nearly a year. She helped us with the pregnancy, but she got herself clean." He briefly considered the high society and city life she'd chosen to dive into. "At least, last I heard."
"I found out the Pinkertons picked up Strauss some time after it all went down."
"Really?" Arthur asked in surprise. "What'd he say to them?"
"Not much, apparently. Kept his secrets close to his chest."
"No shit?" Strauss loyal to the end? Maybe Arthur had underestimated the weasel. If only he hadn't preyed on people worse off than them, he might have some regret sending him away. "You, er, hear anything on Marston?"
"No. It's easier for me to assume the worst than hold on to a false hope that they're still all out there."
With that dreary insight, Arthur felt some guilt at his own happiness and getting a second chance when there were others in the gang who had surely been more deserving and he didn't know where they'd ended up.
Shaking off them uncomfortable thoughts, he said, "I reckon you came here for a purpose, Charles. You ain't never been one for seeking small talk."
Charles nodded. "I had something to show you, but now I'm thinking it's not such a good idea."
"What is it?"
Charles glanced at Charlotte and Nora briefly before asking, "Arthur, do you think you could spare the rest of the day for a quick ride?"
Arthur's gaze went Charlotte too. He was conflicted on how to respond because it must be important if Charles was asking, but all it gave him was cold fear at the thought of leaving her here alone.
"Arthur, we'll be fine for a couple of days," Charlotte reassured him. "I'll keep the rifle close and I won't leave the house until you're back."
While it comforted to know she'd be careful, she could stay inside all she wanted, but that didn't mean trouble would bother knocking.
Charles assured, "If we ride straight there, you'll be back home by tonight."
Arthur met Charlotte's eyes and he knew she realized what he feared. The last time he'd left the mother of his child alone, he'd come back to find them both in the ground.
Yet he wasn't blind to the fact that Charlotte was a different woman, that this was a different situation. He'd seen her when the shooting started. She could manage a gun fine these days and she didn't take unnecessary risks. He could trust her to handle herself.
"Don't see a reason why not," Arthur answered gruffly and glanced out the window. It was nearly midday, but before he could suggest they head out right away, Charlotte handed Nora off to him as she moved to serve up biscuits and gravy on the table.
"First, you two will have a meal," she told them in a firm manner.
As they ate, Charlotte asked Charles about his travels and he managed to hold a conversation without really saying much at all, a specialty he'd damn near perfected. After the meal, Arthur packed a satchel with ammo and supplies for the trip.
When it was time to go, Arthur pressed a kiss to Charlotte's lips, dropped another on Nora's head and hugged the both of them.
To Charles, Charlotte said, "Make sure he comes back to us in one piece."
"I will, ma'am," Charles promised.
Arthur chose to saddle Jane for the journey as she got the most restless without some time to stretch her legs. The first snow of the season hadn't fallen yet, but frost made an appearance on the ground most mornings. Today, the air was cool, not yet crisp and the sun warmed his skin enough that he didn't need to don gloves yet.
For the next couple of hours, he and Charles simply rode instead of talked. Despite his deep-rooted misgivings at leaving Charlotte and Nora on their own, Arthur could appreciate the benefit of getting outdoors. He stuck close to the house these days, even at Charlotte's gentle urging that he could make these sorts of rides if he wanted.
By tracking the sun, Arthur knew Charles was leading him due west, but where to, he ain't yet guessed. They were too far north for any town and they had passed the trail that led to the long abandoned Wapiti Reservation.
When they reached the valleys of the Grizzlies' mountains, they had to slow some to follow the winding path that crossed over rocky terrain. By then, Arthur was ready for some clearer explanations.
"Alright, Charles. You gotta tell me where we're headed."
"Not much further."
They descended down the other side of the mountain. Charles veered left off up a separate trail. Before he started around the curve of the mountain, he broke from the path and dismounted from Taima near a lone tree. Arthur followed suit, more than a little confused. There was a little abandoned house below, but they were near the top of these damn rocks.
It sure made a pretty sight anyway. The sunset shined down on all of New Hanover, the rays making the rivers twinkle and causing the cliffs to cast long shadows.
As they continued to pick their way down the grassy hillside, Arthur commented to Charles, "I'll admit, there ain't no beating the view, but what are we doing here?"
Charles answered quietly and unexpectedly, "You worry someone will come after you and your family?"
"I mean, sure," Arthur agreed. Ain't no denying that fact.
"If you were dead, they'd be less at risk."
"Yeah..." Hearing it had Arthur on edge, like saying it out loud could make it come true. He said defiantly, "But I ain't dead."
"Who's to say you're not?"
"Excuse me?" Arthur stopped himself from looking around with suspicion. He'd be expecting a bushwhacking if he was with any man but Charles.
"The law considers you dead," Charles continued. "They wouldn't give up on you if they thought otherwise. But there is no body."
"I don't get what you're sayin', Charles, unless you mean to murder me right here, right now."
"Nothing so dramatic, Arthur." The grassy area leveled out and Charles strode toward the edge of the cliff where the evening sun lighted the pretty hillside. "This is what I wanted to show you."
Charles had finally stopped near a boulder, but there weren't much land to walk further anyway. He gestured at his side, an invitation for Arthur to look closer. Arthur stepped up cautiously, unsure of what he was about to see.
An encircled wooden cross was stabbed into the ground, protected from the weather by a small rock formation, a collection of orange flowers springing up as if in rebellion of the coming winter. Carved on the cross were words too generous to be bestowed on him, yet his name was written clearly in large, neat lettering claiming it as his.
"What the hell is this?" asked Arthur, bewildered.
"When I heard the Pinkertons killed you," Charles explained, "I wanted to make something in your honor like we did for Hosea and Lenny. Since you survived, there didn't seem to be a need for it."
Arthur knelt in front of his own supposed grave, unsure of what to say. This would have been his final resting place had Charlotte not found him before death did. It was eerie, as if he were seeing the future or an alternate path.
"Then I heard about the problems you've been having, in Rhodes and Annesburg."
Chicago too, if he wanted to count Dorsch's grudge against him.
"There was a rumor that linked your name to both situations."
Arthur nodded grimly. It was inevitable, he supposed, with how much of a ruckus he'd stirred up.
Charles insisted, "But this will help you to keep a low profile, Arthur. A burial site as proof you are gone and mourned."
Arthur stared at it moment before he joked, "Think anyone will even visit it?"
Charles shrugged. "It'll be here if anyone does."
Arthur was morbidly curious whether the mourners it would attract would be old acquaintances missing him or enemies wanting proof of his departure from this world.
But it would do more than quash rumors of his survival and act as proof of his death. It severed his old life and made way for the new.
"This is great, Charles," he said seriously. It was odd, praising the building of his own grave, but he could see it for what it was. "I owe you."
Charles followed him home as night crawled across the sky, keeping true to his solemn promise to Charlotte. The moonlight shone bright as a helpful guide on their trek back and they heard wolves howling in the woods, but they held off, thankfully keeping their distance.
They crossed the Kamassa River and the low roar of the waterfall was a welcome sound to his ear. Arthur tried to invite Charles to stay the rest of the night at that point, but Charles said, "Go to your family. I can manage."
Too tired to protest, Arthur waved to Charles his goodbye and continued up the hill with just his horse and a head full of anticipation.
When he reached the house, the lights were low, but Charlotte had left a lantern on the porch, shining like a lighthouse beacon and calling him in like a ship out at sea.
As tempting as he was to merely dismount and burst into the house to check on the two he held most dear, Arthur restrained himself and dealt with stabling Jane first.
Once that was completed, he couldn't help hustling towards the house. Inside, it was dark and near silent, it being the early hours of the morning by this time. Charlotte lay in bed, innocently asleep on her side.
At the sight of her, relief flooded him. He'd been gone all day. Nothing bad had happened. Charlotte was safe. He sat down on the bed next to her and removed his boots.
Before he could fully ready for bed, Nora made a whimpering noise from the other side of the room. He stood and reached into the crib, resting a hand on her chest, shushing gently. She quieted down and fell back to sleep, but he watched her a moment.
Arthur found himself once again marveling at this treasure he'd had a part in creating. Who would have thought something as ugly as him could have brought something into the world as lovely as her?
One of Arthur's fears when he'd thought he'd neared his end was that he'd only be remembered as a fighter, a killer and a crazy man.
He'd wanted to be seen as more. He wanted his life to mean something to other people, but in a positive way. For awhile, he didn't think he'd ever accomplish it, no matter the deeds he'd done in good faith.
Even if he never saw her grow, the birth of Nora meant he could be remembered as something more to someone who hadn't known him at his worst.
He'd still be a fighter, but for her as a father, a man who stayed with his family rather than trying to live as two different people like he'd attempted before.
His daughter was the way he could prove to himself that redemption was possible, even for the worst of men.