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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"Arthur, would you take Isaac for a moment?" Eliza asked, holding the baby out. He was around a month old now and getting heavier by the day. "My back is killing me." She'd been holding him with one arm while she cut some vegetables for dinner with the other, but Arthur could tell from the look of pain on her face that she needed a break.
He took the tiny, squirming thing that was Isaac from her arms and helped her into a chair near the fireplace. "You feelin' okay?" he questioned, making sure she was comfortable before he stepped back.
"Better than I have been," was her answer. "I don't... I don't bleed so much anymore, and sitting down isn't as painful as it used to be." She thought a moment longer. "But my back! I thought the back pain would have gone away after I gave birth. Instead it's only got worse, and my breasts do nothing but hurt me now as well. They're so dry and nearly cracked to pieces."
Arthur rocked their son gently in his arms. The baby's light, beady eyes began to close with sleep. "I got some bear grease from that grizzly I shot last week. Miss Grimshaw used to mix it with yarrow and use it as an ointment when we had chapped lips. Could be better than nothin'."
"I suppose anything's better than nothing," Eliza moaned tiredly. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes as the warmth from the fire washed over her. "I doubt it will help much, but it might."
"You want a nap?" Arthur offered. "I can finish makin' food for you and do everything outside tonight, if you want."
"No," Eliza protested, sitting back up. "It won't be much longer before you're gone again, and I need to be used to doing all the work around here when that time comes."
"Can I at least help a little?" he begged. Seeing her suffering broke his heart just a bit, every time she winced as she sat down or he found blood in her clothes or on the bed. As much as she obviously loved Isaac, there was no doubt that bearing him had come with considerable pain, even though she claimed giving birth to him happened much easier than it could have been. And Arthur had done this to her. He was responsible for every single ounce of agony she endured on Isaac's behalf.
"Just watch Isaac for a few minutes," she muttered tiredly, closing her eyes again. "Maybe take him outside. He likes to watch the horses. Even if he's screaming and fussing, all I have to do is hold him up to Lady and he's all smiles again. He takes after you in that regard."
So Arthur cradled Isaac to his chest and patted Eliza reassuringly on the shoulder. "We'll just be right outside. I'll feed your chickens while I'm out there, too."
She was too exhausted and sore to protest. As he walked out the door, he could hear her beginning to snore. "Your momma needs a little bit of a break, boy," Arthur said gently, clutching Isaac to his chest. "She says you like horses?"
Isaac's eyes nearly crossed as they struggled to focus on his father's face. He smacked his lips and blinked, his gaze moving to the sky and the limbs of the pine trees overhead.
