Author's Note: This chapter may be my favorite thus far. I don't see a lot of Eliza or Isaac in fics for obvious reasons, and when I do it's usually sad. I wanted to give a glimpse into Arthur's earlier life here, and some happy moments he might have had with his boy. I hope you all enjoy, because I had a ton of fun writing this one.

Day 4 Prompt: Building Snowmen

(In my personal timeline of events based on canon, Isaac was born in 1887, making Arthur 28 and Eliza 23 in this chapter.)

Red Hill, Pocatello, ID – December 4, 1891

It was half noon when Arthur crested the high ridge overlooking Pocatello, a sleepy little mining village located deep in the foothills of southeastern Idaho's Portneuf mountain range. He had departed early that morning, letting Dutch and the others know he'd probably be back after sundown, and set off down the trail just as the warm glow of the sunrise peeked over the treeline to light his way. The twenty-five mile journey between the gang's camp in Blackfoot and his current destination flew by in a few hours, Boadicea making light work of the snowy mountain trails at a comfortable, ground-eating trot. It had been months since he had been this far north, but that didn't matter; he knew this route like the back of his hand.

With a soft click of his tongue to urge her forward, he and Bo made their way down the side of the mountain toward Red Hill, a smaller peak rising high into the northern skyline beyond the township's edge. At its base stood a modest cottage, just a tiny speck some distance apart from the cluster of haphazard buildings that littered Main Street, and that was exactly where Arthur was headed. When he drew near enough to be able to make out the bright red front door he slowed Boadicea to a walk, heart racing with excitement the way it always seemed to do when he returned to this place. He himself had built the snake-rail fence that marked the borders of the tiny property, and he was glad to see that despite his lack of traditional carpentry skills, it appeared to still be holding up fine almost three years on.

As soon as he reached the front gate Arthur dismounted, swinging it open with ease and leading Boadicea through before securing it behind him. His boots crunched loudly on the snow-dusted gravel, Bo's hooves tapping along behind him in accompaniment. He looped the reins back over her head a few yards from the house, murmuring a quiet, "Stay, girl." She snorted impatiently, ears flicking towards him as he went, and he paused to make certain she wasn't following after him before climbing the two steps onto the tiny porch and knocking softly on the door.

Only a few seconds later, he heard quick footsteps making their way across the floor inside, and then the door swung open to reveal a pretty young lady standing in the threshold. She was petite, the top of her head just barely reaching Arthur's chin, and her long dark hair was pulled into a loose braid that dangled forward over one shoulder. Her expression was gentle, her features fine, and when she saw who had come to call she beamed, rosy lips parting in a soft smile that Arthur returned with one of his own.

"Oh, Arthur! I had wondered when I might see you again!"

"Hello, Eliza," he greeted warmly, accepting the friendly hug when she opened her arms to him. "We were doing a little work down around Blackfoot, so I thought I'd come see you an' the boy while I had the chance. How've you two been? Everythin' okay since I was here last?" He didn't say who the "we" in question was, and she didn't ask – they'd been making headlines enough lately that he was certain she knew the gang was still going strong as ever.

"Well that was nice of you. Yes, we've both been gettin' along just fine. Work's going well enough; one good thing 'bout a town like this, there are always plenty of hungry miners and cowboys willin' to tip a little for a good hot meal, 'specially in the colder months." She winked at him, and Arthur blushed and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. After all, that exact scenario had been what caused their little "predicament" in the first place, all those years ago now.

"I'm glad to hear it," he said, peering over her shoulder and into the main room of the house. "Speakin' of, though, where is Isaac? I brought him a little somethin' – and you, too, of course."

"He was playin' with his toys in the bedroom when you knocked," Eliza said softly. "Hold on, let me go get him." She held a finger up to her lips, and Arthur watched while she retreated back into the house, disappearing through the bedroom door before he heard her voice calling, "Isaac? Come out here, son, there's someone here to see you."

A moment later she came back out, this time accompanied by a little boy who clung onto her skirt, nervous but curious as he tried to keep up with his mother's longer strides. He had her dark hair and fine features, but his deep blue eyes were all Arthur's; as soon as he saw who was at the door those eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, mouth open in a big "O" that revealed a gap in place of his top front teeth.

Before Arthur knew it his son was sprinting forward and launching himself into his arms, letting Arthur lift him up and laughing as he cried, "Papa, Papa! I missed you! Where you been?"

"Hi there, Isaac," Arthur said, his heart warming the way it only ever did at the sight of his little boy. "I missed you, too. I been travelin' all around the whole country, and it keeps me real busy."

Isaac nodded as Arthur set him back down, expression thoughtful. "Oh, with those other cowboys Mama telled me about? Can I go with ya?"

"Nah, maybe when you're bigger," Arthur chuckled, ruffling his hair. "Right now I think a strong breeze might still topple you over if you ain't careful."

"Nuh-uh!" Isaac argued, crossing his arms. "The wind was blowin' real hard yesterday, and I didn't fall over or nothin'! I'm gettin' big now, Mama says."

"You sure are. Little birdie told me you just had a birthday, too. How old is you now, twelve?"

"No, Papa, I'm four!" Isaac said proudly.

"Oh, that's right, silly me," Arthur said, smacking his forehead with the heel of one hand. "Well, you got any big plans for today, now that you're a whole four years old?"

Isaac nodded, excited. "Yeah! Mama said she was gonna take me to go play in the snow later, and build a snowman!"

"That does sound like fun. Why don't you and I go right now? If you want to, that is."

Isaac's eyes lit up. "Oh, yes! Can we, Mama? Pleeeaase?" he asked hopefully, glancing up at Eliza, who smiled and nodded.

"Of course, son. Go get your coat and mittens, and then you two can go."

Isaac nodded and dashed back into the bedroom; Arthur could hear him frantically opening and closing drawers in the wardrobe, likely leaving a mess within while he looked for his winter clothes.

"Is that okay, Eliza?" Arthur asked quietly. "We could all go. I don't wanna intrude, if you two had plans already."

Eliza huffed a laugh, shaking her head at him. "Arthur, it's Idaho. Ain't the last snow we're gonna see this week, let alone between now and May; I'll have plenty of opportunities to go another day. Right now I'm just thrilled to see my boy spend some time with his father."

A soft smile made its way across his face. "If you're sure."

"O'course I am," Eliza said, turning to look at Isaac as he stumbled his way back into the main room. His coat was halfway on, though upside-down, and he struggled to work his other arm through the hole, both of them stifling a laugh when he flapped the empty sleeve with a frustrated huff.

"C'mere, let me help you," Arthur chuckled, pulling the coat back off and turning it right-side-up before guiding his arms through properly and helping him slip on his boots. "These things never are the easiest to get on 'n off, are they?"

"No," Isaac agreed, "but Mama says if I don't wear 'em when it's snowy my toes might fall off."

"And she's right. Good pair'a boots have saved my toes more than once, whether it was the cold or an ornery horse's foot. Okay," he said, retrieving the tiny hat, scarf, and pair of mittens hanging beside the door and handing them to Isaac to put on. "Think that's everything. You 'bout ready?"

"Yeah! Can we go now?"

"Oh, I don't know," Eliza teased, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

"Maaaa…" Isaac groaned, and Eliza laughed and then leaned down to kiss his forehead.

"Oh, I suppose so. You mind your pa out there, now, and have fun! I'll have supper ready when you two get back."

"Yes, Mama. Come on, Papa, let's go!"

Arthur did, taking Isaac's hand in his and waving to Eliza over his shoulder with the other as they made their way out the door. His son practically dragged him toward Boadicea, face lighting up at the sight of her, and Bo's ears perked up the instant she spotted him.

"It's Bo! Hi, Bo!" Isaac greeted, walking forward and petting the chestnut mare's muzzle. Arthur handed him a peppermint from his saddlebags, reminding him to keep his fingers open flat when he fed her, and Isaac giggled when she ate it, her velvety lips tickling his palm.

"Now, then, up you get," Arthur said, hoisting the boy up onto the front of the saddle and then swinging himself up behind him. He wrapped an arm around Isaac's waist, holding him safe and secure, and then applied light pressure to Boadicea's sides with his legs until she moved into an easy trot. "I know just where we can go. Saw a nice spot not too far from here, just covered in fresh snow. Should be perfect for making a snowman."

"Yeah!" Isaac said, tiny hands gripping onto the saddle horn. "Can we ride fast, Papa?"

"Sure. But not too fast, don't want Bo to slip if there's any ice." He clicked his tongue and Boadicea eagerly moved into a canter, the Hungarian Halfbred somehow still energetic enough to enjoy a jog despite having been ridden for hours already. Sparkling powder kicked up behind her hooves, and Isaac whooped with excitement, grinning ear to ear as they made their way around the base of the hills and down into a large, open meadow.

"Here we are," Arthur said, dismounting and helping Isaac down with him. There was no one else around for miles, the edge of Pocatello just barely visible in the distance, and an ankle-deep blanket of unbroken snow stretched as far as the eye could see. "You know how to start when you make a snowman?"

"Umm… I think so…" Isaac said, reaching down and grabbing two fistfuls of snow in his mittens and then squishing them together. After pulling his hands apart, he stared in confusion at the messy collection of differently-sized snow pellets he'd made, watching as they tumbled off of his mittens and back to the ground. "I'm trying to make a snowball," he said, "but Mama is better at it than me."

"That's alright. I'll get you started." Arthur scooped up a small mound of snow in his cupped hands, his warm elk skin gloves leaving his fingers free to move independently and making the job much simpler. With practiced ease, he molded the snow into a rough sphere, holding it up for Isaac to see. "So you start with a snowball, just like this. Then roll it around on the ground," he gently placed it down guiding it through the powder and watching it begin to collect more. "And then it starts to grow. See?"

Isaac watched, fascinated and excited. "Can I do it?"

"Sure," he said. "Be real gentle, and take it slow. You don't wanna push it too hard, or it'll break apart." Isaac nodded, and Arthur watched with a soft smile as the boy took to his task with intense focus, rolling the snowball around in circles and beaming as it slowly grew larger and larger.

"Keep at it," Arthur told him, turning to walk a the short distance back toward Boadicea. "I'm gonna get something for us to put on it once we're ready." He reached into his saddlebags, one side of which bulged with all sorts of supplies and trinkets, the other with the money and gifts he had set aside for Eliza and Isaac. After a moment he found what he was looking for: a handful of peppermints, a carrot, and a warm wool cap and scarf he always kept when traveling in colder regions like this. Bo pressed her nose against his pockets, snuffling noisily, and he chuckled and fed her one before making his way back to Isaac.

"Look, Papa, it's getting big!" he said excitedly, now struggling slightly to push the heavy ball.

"It sure is! Let's get it just a little bigger, since this part'll be the base, and then we can make a body and a head for him too."

Arthur bent down and helped Isaac keep the snowball rolling, letting him work as hard as he wanted and only fully taking over when the sphere grew half as big as he was. Then they repeated the process, a little smaller for the middle, and finally the head. Arthur let Isaac set it on top, lifting him up so he could reach, and then retrieved the peppermints from his pockets and handed them to his son.

"Now we just gotta get him dressed. You give him a face, however you want, and I'll put his hat and scarf on once you're done."

"Okay!" Isaac said, brow furrowed in concentration and tongue poking out one side of his mouth as he carefully placed each mint. Before long there were two eyes, a slightly lopsided smile, and a few buttons going down the middle. Arthur also offered him the carrot, which he had to stretch a little to place, but soon the snowman's features were complete, albeit still naked.

"Here we go," Arthur murmured, looping the scarf around the snowman's neck and gently placing the wool cap on its head. "And, one last thing…" He looked at the scrubby bushes around them, trying to find the best, and then broke off two good-sized branches, which he stuck into the sides of the torso for arms. "There! Guess he's all done. Whatcha think?"

"Hmmm…" Isaac said, thoughtful. "He's still missing something."

"Oh yeah? What?"

"Just a second," Isaac said, and Arthur watched, amused, as he walked about in some of the dry brush that still poked through the snow, pulling up handfuls of the stuff until he had a good-sized bundle. Then he made his way over to the snowman, carefully sticking the grass around its mouth, before smiling and nodding in satisfaction. "There! Now he has a beard, just like you!"

"He sure does. Good thinkin'! Feller needs to keep his face warm."

"I like it when you have a beard," Isaac said, honest in the way only children could be. "It looks soft, even though it's kind of scratchy."

Arthur laughed, the sentiment warming his heart in a way he couldn't begin to describe. "Yeah, it is a little scratchy, ain't it? 'Specially when I getcha… like this!" He scooped Isaac into his arms, and the boy squealed with laughter when Arthur pressed a kiss to his forehead, then his cheeks and his nose.

"Stop, Papa, stop!" Isaac cried between giggles, playfully batting at him. "Noooo, it tickles, help!"

Arthur chuckled and set him back down, and Isaac lunged toward his father's legs, grabbing him at the knees and shoving with all he was worth. With a theatrical shout, Arthur fell backwards into the snow, arms splayed out to the sides. As Isaac moved up onto his chest the two began to roll around and wrestle, both laughing the whole time, though Arthur was careful to keep from laying any real weight on him or getting too rough. Eventually he could see the boy starting to tire, and he threw himself onto his stomach, arms held behind him so his son could easily reach them.

"Aaargh, you got me!" he cried dramatically as Isaac pinned him down. "I surrender, Sheriff. Go easy on me, pardner."

"You're going to jail," Isaac said, in his best deep, menacing voice. "You'll hafta eat Brussels sprouts for dinner the rest of your life!"

"Noooo, please! Anything but that! Have mercy on your poor father, Isaac!"

Isaac hummed, thoughtfully tapping his chin just like his mother in miniature. "I guess I can let you go. But only if you promise you'll come back and see me again real soon."

Arthur's breath caught in his chest, his heart cracking just a little at the sincerity in that tiny request. "I promise," he said softly, turning his head so he could look into Isaac's eyes. "Just as soon as I can, I promise I will."

"Alright," Isaac said, nodding solemnly and climbing off of Arthur's back. "No jail for you today, Mister."

"Phew! Thank you, Sheriff Morgan. I'll stay outta trouble, I sw-" He turned around to smile at Isaac, only to halt immediately, noticing something over his shoulder that hadn't been there before. Boadicea, apparently bored with their nonsense, had taken it upon herself to come over and have a snack, and she stood munching on the snowman's carrot nose, peppermints already long gone and hat and scarf askew.

"Bo! Bad girl, no!" Isaac shouted, waving his hands at her. She flicked one ear toward him for a moment, but otherwise didn't react, too busy chomping on the straw beard now to care whether she was supposed to be doing so or not.

"Aww, come on, Bo," Arthur groaned, finally pushing her head away and retrieving the hat and scarf from the ruined pile of snow before leading her by the reins to stand a few feet away. Isaac frowned, and Arthur sighed. "I'm sorry, Isaac. Guess she was hungrier than I realized."

Isaac was silent for a moment, then came over to stand next to them, patting Boadicea on the shoulder. "It's okay, Bo. But you should've just asked, I'm sure Papa would have gotten you some of your own."

"Speaking of which," Arthur said, tucking the garments back into his saddlebags. "We probably ought to be headin' back about now. Your mama's gonna have supper ready soon, and we don't wanna be late to eat it."

"Okay."

Arthur lifted him back into the saddle, settling behind him just as before, and as they made their way back at a relaxed pace he asked, "So, did you have fun?"

"Yeah! It was a really good snowman, even if Bo ate it. Maybe next time we should build a snow pony for her."

Arthur smiled. "That ain't a bad idea at all."

Eliza was waiting for them when they got back, plates of hot stew and cornbread still steaming on the table. Isaac regaled her with the tale of his adventure, and she laughed at his description of his "Snow Papa" and its eventual demise at the jaws of the hungry mare. When they finished eating, Arthur gave them both the gifts he had brought along: a bit of cash and a warm new coat for Eliza, and a set of jacks and some wooden animals which he had carved himself for Isaac. His favorite, of course, was the horse, which he immediately proceeded to name Boadicea too.

As the afternoon light began to fade, the sun sinking near to the horizon, Arthur stood from his chair near the fireplace, ready to ride back toward camp before it got terribly late and cold. He made his way over to the door, about to retrieve his coat and hat, when a small voice stopped him cold.

"Papa? Do you have to go tonight? I thought maybe… if you stayed 'til morning, we could read a story together?"

Arthur hesitated, just for a moment. He had told Dutch and Hosea he planned on being back tonight, but…

"Please?" Isaac asked, Eliza shushing him afterward.

But it was already too late. Arthur had seen that sad, hopeful look on his face, the wobble of his lower lip as his eyes glistened, and he knew he was whipped. Turning back toward his son, he strode over and wrapped an arm around him, pulling him against his side in a tight hug.

"Alright. What story was you thinkin'?"

Eliza grinned at him from behind their son, and Arthur returned it with one of his own. He knew Dutch and Hosea would be fine until morning, if maybe slightly concerned, and his responsibilities at camp would keep until then. For now, though, he still had the rest of the night to spend with his boy, and he didn't plan on wasting one single minute.

Notes: Kids have always been extremely hard for me to write, and I'm very proud of how I feel Isaac came out here. I based a lot of this interaction on my memories of my own father as a young'un, but also on Arthur's interactions with Jack in RDR2, especially the fishing trip.

Next chapter we'll be going back to the current 1910 storyline for that prompt, which is: "Hot Chocolate and Warm Hands." See you then!