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Two hours after going to bed, George rolls over on his bedroll, exhausted but unable to sleep. Eventually, he gives up, pulling on his boots and jacket over his union suit and crawling out of his tent. George knows that Papa is usually awake in the night, so there will be someone up for him to talk to. Indeed, squinting through the darkness, George spots a familiar shape sat by the campfire.
Yawning, he wanders across camp, approaching his father. Mindful of making Micah jump (Papa once hit Sean for coming up behind him, his reflexes kicking in), George decides to get his attention from a distance as he whispers, “Hi, Papa.”
Micah looks up, glancing at him. He meets George’s eyes, a simple action that he never used to do, and acknowledges George with a nod. When George sits on the log beside his father, Micah tilts his head, putting his knife away.
“Can’t sleep, George?” he says, and George will never stop loving whenever Micah uses his name.
“N-No, I can’t,” George whispers, wrapping his arms around himself. Even with his jacket on, the nighttime air cuts through him, and he shivers. “You neither?”
“It’d be rarer if I could sleep, kid,” Micah says, chuckling. “But yeah. Welcome to the Insomniac Club.”
George tries to giggle, but another shiver runs through him.
This time, Micah notices, eyebrows raised. “You cold?”
“Um, yeah,” George says. “But just a little.”
“Oh really?” he says, unconvinced. Micah sighs, staring down at his shivering son. He rolls his eyes, but unbuttons his short leather coat, tugging it off. “Here, put this on and quit that shiverin’.”
And as George sits there, stunned, Micah wraps the coat around George’s shoulders like a blanket. The heavy coat drowns George in leather, surrounding him with warmth of Papa’s body heat. Tugging the coat around himself, George’s hands stroke the soft lining, inhaling the scent of gun oil, tobacco, sweat and Baylock. Micah never lets anyone touch his coat, so to know his father voluntarily put it on George makes him feel loved. And Micah has never told George he loves him in words, but actions like this show him that Papa has grown to love him.
Warm and comfortable, George grins, wriggling closer to Micah. He leans against Papa’s side, so ridiculously happy just because Micah Bell put his leather coat around his shoulders. He isn’t cold anymore, just happy to sit so close to Micah.
“Still cold, huh?” Micah says. He sighs, but moves his arm, letting it slip around George’s shoulders. “Fine, here you go,” he mutters, playfully exaggerating his exasperation, his hand stroking George’s arm through his own jacket. But they both know George didn’t snuggle into him for his warmth, instead wanting his Papa’s arm around him.
They sit in comfortable silence for what feels like hours, until George’s eyelids start drooping and his head leans against Micah’s chest. He finally falls asleep in Papa’s arms, listening to his father’s heartbeat.