Arthur Morgan did not intend to survive when he gave his hat to John Marston and stayed behind to gain his redemption. As he crawled towards his final resting place, he never intended to wake up again.
But he does wake up. Thanks to time travelers F...
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1884
The ride back to North Elizabeth was a cold one. Upon receiving Eliza's letter, Arthur immediately hopped on the next train to Denver, the closest city to Bear Glen with a railroad depot, and from there rode like hell to be at her side. Fortunately, the train had a car for horses near the back with the other cargo, so he was able to take Boadicea. He would not have wanted to go anywhere without her anyway.
The dependable, draft-cross mare was like an old friend to him now, after so many years on the trail together. Her massive hooves the size of train wheels were sure-footed and capable of easy travel over ice and snow, which became useful to Arthur as they fought snow and ice storms of all kinds on the ride through the stunning Colorado wilderness, from the Rockies to the Grizzlies.
Thanks to the train, however, the entire trip took only about two weeks. If it hadn't been for the awful, wintery weather, Arthur had no doubt he could have ridden Boadicea hard and made the trip to North Elizabeth in only one week, but as it was, he had no interest in freezing to death before he got the chance to hold his child in his arms.
The two weeks had become a blessing, of sorts. He had time to process the shock of discovering he was about to be a father, and the more he thought about it, the more he considered it might not be such a bad thing after all. All his life, Arthur had never held fathers in very high regard, especially after witnessing his Pa's cruelty and eventual hanging. But the more he thought about it, the more he considered he could be like Dutch and Hosea to his child. It would need to be taught to read and write after all, and how to hunt and fish and ride a horse.
The more he imagined teaching the child everything it needed to know, the more he fantasized about fatherhood and other dreams. He pictured himself teaching his faceless child to run beaver lines, and helping it kill and butcher its first deer. Even if the child was a girl, he reasoned, she should still know how to survive in wild country like the Western Grizzlies, and she should still be handy with a long gun and a sidearm.
He hadn't let go of the thought that Eliza's child was a boy, however. Somehow, he just knew. It just seemed more natural that way, like the way the sun rose and fell each day or the way the wind whistled through the pines or how things were born and died and were born again.
Along with that thought came fear. What if his son was just like him, or worse, just like his Pa? With Eliza as the boy's mother, the chances of that happening were slim to none, but Arthur still worried. He resolved to raise the child with love, to value nature and women and gentler things the way Hosea did, but to have Dutch's steely resolve and cunning nature.
Thinking of Hosea worried Arthur; he wondered what the old man was up to, and if he was still mourning Bessie, but there wasn't much time to dwell on that.
Everywhere, however, Arthur carried Mary's letter, even though he hadn't found time to reply to it yet. Eliza and their baby would take much of his time over the next few months, and it seemed that if Mary had waited this long, she could wait until after Arthur's son was born and until after he'd found the courage to tell her about Eliza.
