Traveler trilogy Book 2.
Five years after killing Levi Cornwall, Arthur Morgan is happy. He has a wife who loves him, an honest job he enjoys, and two beautiful children named Sadie and Hiram. All of it is turned on its head, however, when Francis S...
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Today I die.
The words coursed around in Arthur's brain at the speed of light as he rode Cheyenne through the woods of Roanoke Ridge. It seemed only five minutes ago that he'd kissed Tori goodbye and mounted up with the others to leave their little cottage in Annesburg behind, but in reality it had been several hours.
She'd gone with Charles to rendezvous with the versions of Francis and Charles that were responsible for bringing the past version of himself to the future, and he'd set off with Mac and Francis and Jackson.
They stayed off the roads. Fortunately, Arthur knew when and where all the action that day would be happening and the way forward had mostly been quiet, save for the twittering of birds and the occasional small talk they made as one of them tried and failed to make conversation. The weight of the day hung heavy over everyone, but perhaps for Arthur, it hung heaviest of all.
He could hardly breathe, for starters. Francis had listened to his lungs that morning and declared there was nothing wrong with them, but it still seemed hard for Arthur to draw breath somehow, as though there was a pillow placed over his mouth to stop enough oxygen from reaching his lungs. Whether psychological on account of his anxiety about today or on account of properties of time he didn't understand, Arthur didn't know. All he did know was that his chest hurt, and there was an awful, sinking feeling in his stomach on account of it.
Today, I die.
He looked over at Francis, whose hands were white on his horse's reins from clenching them so tightly. Clearly, Arthur wasn't the only nervous one.
Chief of all Arthur's worries was Jenny. He hadn't received many new memories of her lately, so he assumed she'd been avoiding him or something. In any case, they hadn't interacted much lately, even before the raid on the oil refinery. Perhaps she'd outgrown him, or perhaps the progression of his illness was too difficult for her to watch after they'd spent a few weeks as lovers and then as close friends after.
He hadn't lived through the current timeline with her physically, but the memories of this timeline were just as vivid as the ones he'd made in the timeline where she'd died. He could remember the softness of her hair, the feeling of her skin on his fingertips, the sounds of her sighs in his ear. His whole heart belonged to Tori without question, but he'd certainly cared for Jenny very much, even after getting sick. He'd wanted her to leave with the other members of the gang who'd run off, and her refusal to do so had affected him in such a deep way that it left its own scars alongside the ones left by Mary and Dutch and what he'd done to the Downes family.
"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" Mac asked quietly, pulling back to ride beside Arthur. Francis and Jackson were a ways in front of them having a conversation of their own, and Mac spoke so quietly they wouldn't have been able to hear him anyway. Clearly, the question was meant for Arthur alone.
"Ain't you?" Arthur asked in return, answering the inquiry with a question of his own. "This is all to save her, after all."
"That ain't what I meant, and you know it," Mac replied in a sad voice. "I know you loved her. We ain't really spoken about it, in part because we never had the time and I can tell your heart completely belongs to your wife these days, but back then you loved her. And even if she won't admit it to me or even herself, she loved you too."
