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Arthur should have died that night.
He doesn’t know why, or better yet- how he managed to wake up. The cuts on his face stinging, his lungs burning. Every nerve in his body screaming in protest as he forced his body up. He could barely walk, gripping onto the mountain wall or anything else he could reach in order to help keep himself upright. Every time his body racked with coughs, he could feel himself dying over and over again. He would’ve been convinced he was dead and a ghost, but the agonizing pain he felt was a cruel reminder that he was still on this earth.
After what seemed like hours, the sound of hooves rumbling against the ground rung in his ears. Arthur’s mind instinctively hoped for it to be Dutch- but the hope was short lived as he was reminded of what had happened the past few months, and the breaking point that took place just days ago. He warily looked up, chest heaving and eyelids heavy. A large man, with a stern look and salt-and-pepper hair met his gaze. “Good god son, how are you alive? Gus, Ethan! Give this man a hand atop one of our horses.” The man instructed, and two boys who seemed to be in their teens hurried off their mounts and each ducked under one of Arthur’s arms to help support him.
Arthur desperately wanted to protest, to tell them to get going, but he simply couldn’t. He weakly obliged as he was guided towards the eldest man’s horse, and was awkwardly heaved onto the stallion. “What’s your name, son? Where did you come from, who did this to you?” The man berated Arthur with questions, and kicked his horse into a steady gallop. Arthur’s body screamed in agony at the rocking movement, but he bit his tongue. “Not much of a talker? We’ll get an answer out of you yet. My name is Drew, Drew MacFarlane. You’re lucky me and my boys were out on a trip up here, we live much farther south, down near Armadillo. You ever been around there?”
Arthur didn’t respond.
Mr. MacFarlane hummed in understanding. “Forgot what state you were in, son. I’ll leave you alone for now. Just- try to rest for the time being. We shouldn’t be too long.”
And Arthur did. He awkwardly leaned against the back of Mr. MacFarlane -an action he wouldn’t be caught dead doing even a week ago- and closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure if he should let sleep take him- as he didn’t know if he would wake up. Yet, he decided that death would be a better outcome than going to some random old man’s house, and being cared for like a child.
He was honestly a bit disappointed when he managed to wake up, his body still aching. The pain had subsided a bit, and after taking a moment to get his bearings, he realized that he definitely was not on the back of Mr. MacFarlane’s horse. He was lying on a cot, dressed only in his union suit. He had to muster up all his strength to sit up, groaning and coughing as he did so. Arthur questioned how loud his struggling was, because only a few moments later a girl burst into his room. She couldn’t have been older than fifteen. “Papa, he’s awake!” She shouted, before coming closer to Arthur and opening her mouth, as if she was about to bombarde him with questions. He tensed, not interested in talking, and was luckily saved when Mr. MacFarlane came in only a few moments later. “Alright, alright Bonnie. Thank you for alerting me. Now, why don’t we give him some space. He’s had quite a rough time. Go find Ethan, he’s probably skimping out of his chores right now and needs someone to put him in his place.” He instructed, closing the door behind the teen as she left the room.
The two men stood in silence for a moment. Arthur opened his mouth to speak first, but was beaten to it by Mr. MacFarlane. “I won’t force you to tell me where you came from, or how you ended up on top of that mountain, son. All I know is that you’ve been out cold for five days, you should be dead, and it cost me a hell of a lot to get you to this state.” He said, his tone seeming a bit annoyed. Arthur swallowed dryly, his throat like sandpaper. “You didn’t have to do all that.” He eventually choked out, his vocal chords so dry and weak from lack of use Arthur was shocked he was able to say anything. The man sighed. “Yeah, I did. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I just left ya there.”
Arthur sat quietly for a moment. “How much did it all cost? Y’know.. I can pay you back.” He offered.
“It was forty-five dollars for it all. Tuberculosis is a hell of a thing, and the doctors did a lot of work to try and get the infection away, at least for a little bit.” Mr. MacFarlane responded. Arthur nodded and turned to his satchel, before realizing that he no longer had it. When everything happened, he had lost everything. His satchel, his journal, his hat. At least he knew his hat was with John. Well, probably. If by some miracle John hadn’t managed to screw up and lose it. “I, uh-“ He spluttered, but Mr. MacFarlane raised his hand. “I know, son. You can work your debt off. We could use a hand around here after everything that’s happened. So, if you’re feeling up for it right now, go ahead and meet me at the house. It just down the road here.” The man said.
And with a short nod exchanged between both of them, Mr. MacFarlane left.
It took a while until Arthur mustered up the motivation and energy to get up. When he did, he already felt exhausted, like he hadn’t slept in weeks. He slowly made his way over to the small mirror and wash basin in the corner of the room, and looked at himself in the mirror.
He didn’t know who stared back. It was a sad man. All patched up and bruised, his face sunken in like a half-decomposed corpse. Arthur already didn’t like his reflection, and this was just a cruel joke. He shaved away the beard that had grown from neglect, his hands shaky and weak. He managed to finish the simple task with only a few nicks.
He was upset. He was angry. Angry at Micah, angry at Dutch, angry at himself. Angry at himself for trusting Dutch too long, ignoring all the obvious signs that he wasn’t okay, and he was a very changed man. He was angry at Dutch for throwing everything away for a man that had only been in the gang for a few months, choosing him over John and Arthur, and even Hosea, who had all been by his side for at least two decades. Arthur sighed, and spit on the floor in disgust. At least John had gotten away. Arthur prayed, to whoever greater being there was, that John had found Abigail and Jack and had taken them somewhere safe. That he hadn’t acted like a fool and tried something he couldn’t handle.
It took Arthur a little while to muster up the energy to go outside. The task of just putting on some normal clothes seemed too much. But, he knew he would go insane just sitting around. He almost did back when he was recovering in Clemens Point after Colm had kidnapped him. Besides, he needed to pay back Mr. MacFarlane.
The sun was harsh on his eyes, and he tried to blink the exhaustion away. His body and lungs ached, but compared to the state he was in a few days prior, he was doing real well. Arthur forced himself down the road, and eventually made it to the home at the end of the road. He dragged himself up the stairs and rapped his knuckles on the door.
The young girl that was in Arthur’s room earlier answered the door. “You’re up!” She exclaimed. Arthur nodded curtly. “Bonnie, right?” He rasped, leaning against the door frame. The girl nodded. “Would you mind getting your father for me?” He said, softly coughing into his fist. Bonnie turned and began to walk away, leaving the door open. “Go ahead and sit down on the couch right there.” She said, gesturing to the side. Arthur happily obliged, already exhausted from such a short trip.
He sat alone for a few moments, before Mr. MacFarlane entered the room. “How are you feeling, son?” He questioned, sitting down on a chair across from Arthur. He shrugged softly. “Alright, I’ll be okay in a few days.” He said, coughing again. Mr. MacFarlane sighed. “No, you won’t be. You took a hard hit. I only saw you at the worst of it, but I can imagine that this sickness has been brewing for a long time.”
Arthur looked at this hands and messed with his fingers. He chuckled softly. “Heh, yeah. It’s been pretty bad for a while now.” He rasped.
“Well then, son, I won’t make your work too physical. Are you good with a gun?”
Arthur almost burst out laughing, but reminded himself that Mr. MacFarlane wasn’t familiar with his past. Or anything about him, really.
“Yeah. I’m pretty good.” He concluded.
“Great. Then I’ll have you on patrol. Every morning and evening I want you to take your horse and patrol the land. Shoot any vermin and bring in any people who seem dangerous or suspicious to the holding office here. Does that seem doable?”
Arthur nodded. “Yes sir. It’s just, I don’t have a horse. Mine.. died. Right before I ended up on that mountain.” He explained. “God, you have had no shortage of difficulties.” Mr. MacFarlane breathed. “Not to worry, we have a few horses that aren’t used often. You can pick one of them to be yours for the time being.” He said, standing up. “I’ll have Bonnie take you. She’s been needing to head over there anyways.” He called out to the girl, who came hurrying down the stairs. She was very enthusiastic once asked to escort Arthur to the barn.
Once the pair were walking down the road, Bonnie did not hesitate to begin bombarding Arthur with questions, which Arthur was sure she had been wanting to do since he woke up.
“How did you end up on that mountain? Are you a gunslinger? Were you runnin’ from someone? Who-“ She trailed on and on, only quieting down when Arthur cut her off. “Slow down, kid. That’s a lot of words.” He said, exasperated. She looked sheepish. “Sorry, mister. We don’t get too many visitors around here. And when we do, they don’t look nothing like you.” She defended. Arthur sighed. “You can ask me one question, so make sure it counts.”
Bonnie was quiet for a moment, and Arthur could tell she was really looking for the perfect question to ask.
“Do you have a family you need to get back to?” She eventually asked.
He opened his mouth, almost instinctively going to mention Dutch and Hosea, but cut himself short.
“No, I don’t.” He said. Bonnie seemed disappointed in the answer, and looked like she already regretted asking that question. Arthur decided to say a little more. “I guess I do have a brother. He’s not really my brother, but we was raised together. I do want to try and find him again, one day. And see if he’s doing okay.”
‘And also get my hat back’. He nearly added, only partially joking.
Bonnie seemed much more satisfied with that answer. “Whats your brothers name?” She asked
.
“Didn’t I say you could only ask one question?”
Arthur said, glancing down at her. She opened her mouth to apologize, but Arthur cut her off. “It’s John.” He answered. Bonnie seemed to want to continue the conversation, but the two had turned up at the entrance of the barn. “Oh, we’re here! Let me show you the horses.” Bonnie said, rushing forwards and stopping beside a few of the stalls. She gestured to three horses. There was a bay roan, a grey dapple, and a red chestnut. Arthur was hesitant to pick, not sure the temperaments of each of the horses. He wasn’t sure he could handle a wild mount with the state he was in. Arthur eventually spoke up. “Ah, I can’t decide. Why don’t you pick for me?” He said to Bonnie, who happily obliged. She walked over to the roans pen, grabbing the halter and leading the horse out of the pen. “This is Apple! She’s such a nice mare, but we haven’t used her too much since she’s older. But she should be perfect for the amount of work you’re going to be doing.” She introduced the mare to Arthur, and handed him the lead rope. “She’s the one I learned to ride on.” Bonnie said, stroking the mares nose. “I think you two will be a good pair.” Arthur smiled softly. “Thank you, Bonnie. I think me an’ her will be just fine together.” He said.
Bonnie showed him where the saddles and other tack were, and then let him be so he could get familiar with his new horse and tack her up. Arthur didn’t realize how weak he still was until he lifted the saddle and set it on Apple’s back. It left him gasping for air, his upper arms aching. He leaned on the mares shoulder for support, breaths shaking. “Damn, girl. You’re gonna have to be patient with me.” He said, continuing on and finishing putting all the needed gear on Apple. As he led her out of the barn, he sighed. He had nothing. Not a cent to his name, none of his guns, or clothes, or anything. He had to start from the bottom. And he wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to do it a second time.