Chapter Text
The family of three set camp somewhere in New Hanover. The stars are out and bright tonight. Crickets chirped beyond the trees. The fire crackles.
Bundled up in a cozy blanket between Arthur and Sadie, their one-year-old daughter sat wide-eyed with joy as she pointed excitedly at the nearby horses. Every time one flicked its tail or stomped its hoof, she let out a squeaky little laugh like it was the funniest thing she’d ever seen.
Arthur chuckled under his breath, gently stroking her soft curls. “Ain’t never seen someone that amused by a horse just… existin’.”
Sadie, reclined with one leg stretched toward the fire and the other curled underneath her, smirked. “She’s your kid. She's bound to grow up a little odd.”
"Oh, so it's my fault now?" Arthur raised a brow. “That what you're sayin' woman?”
They both laughed softly, their voices blending with the wind and warmth of the flames. It was a rare kind of quiet—a sacred lull. The world had been too loud for too long. Now, this peace felt like honey after years of ash.
“Y’know,” Sadie murmured, poking at the fire with a stick, “I been thinkin’ about maybe lookin’ into that property we passed near Cumberland. Not too big, but good land. We could replace that run down cabin. And I thought it being close to the creek was nice.”
Arthur nodded, rocking Maisie slightly. “I remember. Could be good for her to grow up in a place like that. Lotta open space.”
“We could build somethin’. Not a big ranch or nothin’. Just a place to call ours. With a porch.” She paused, grinning. “You could carve her a swing.”
He glanced at her, a slow smile forming. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
Maisie let out another delighted sound and pointed with stubby fingers. “Hoshey!”
Arthur chuckled. “That’s right, sweetheart. That’s yer Momma's ornery ol’ nag.”
Sadie leaned in with a crooked grin. “Can’t believe her favorite word might actually be horse.”
“Could be worse. Atleast she ain't sayin' Micah.”
Sadie gagged. “Don’t you dare curse our baby with that name.”
They laughed again. The fire snapped and popped as if it were laughing with them.
And then—after a beat of silence—Sadie turned her head toward Arthur and asked out of nowhere, almost too casually. “Hey. You ever… had feelings for me back in the gang?”
Arthur turned to her slowly. He looked at her, puzzled, like maybe he didn’t hear her right. “Back then?”
“Yeah.” She shrugged, eyes locked on the fire. “Just wonderin’. Not accusin’ or nothin’. I know it was a different time… just… curious.”
Arthur let out a quiet breath and leaned back slightly, resting one hand behind Maisie as if it was himself he was steadying.
“Hmm,” he muttered. “That’s a… hell of a question.”
He stared into the flames for a while. They danced like ghosts, like memories flickering back into view.
“I remember when we found you… then me and Dutch brought you to camp.” His voice softened. “Still remember the first time a laid eyes on ya. God, you poor thing. You were so scared and angry. Saw it in the way you swung that knife at Micah.”
Sadie’s jaw clenched subtly, but she didn’t interrupt.
Arthur continued, “Didn’t know what to say to you half the time. Just figured I’d be kind when I could. Thought maybe that’s what you needed. You scared the hell outta most of the boys.”
She smirked slightly. “Good.”
Arthur gave a faint laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “You scared me, too. You were intense. I mean… you still are. But back then? I thought if I said the wrong thing, you’d put me six feet under.”
Sadie scoffed, grinning. “That wasn’t too far off.”
Arthur turned a shade redder, eyes drifting down to the dirt like a boy caught confessing to his schoolyard crush.
“I… I did think you were beautiful though. Even back then.”
Sadie froze.
Arthur cleared his throat. “Never felt like it was the right time. You was grievin’. And me? I was neck-deep in gang shit. Then things started fallin’ apart and—” He frowned. “I hated watchin’ what we all became near the end. But still, in my journal… I sketched you. A bunch’a times, actually.”
Sadie's jaw dropped in disbelief. “You what?”
“Yeah. I… didn’t show no one, obviously. Just scribblin’. Mostly your face when you weren’t lookin’. You had this fire in your eyes. Even when you were quiet, it was like… you were still roarin’ inside. I always admired that.”
She was stunned. The most ferocious woman in the West, rendered utterly speechless.
“I even wrote down,” he muttered, “that if I ever pissed you off bad enough, I’d be a dead man.”
Sadie burst out laughing.
“Not kiddin’,” Arthur added with a sheepish grin. “Wrote that exact thing. Word for word.”
She laughed harder, trying not to wake the baby, who was now dozing off, thumb in her mouth and a tiny smile on her face.
“But I never made a move,” Arthur went on, voice lower now, gentler. “Wouldn’t have been right. Too much goin’ on. You was still hurtin’. I didn’t wanna be another man who made things worse.”
Sadie looked at him—really looked. Her chest ached in that warm, aching way you feel when you realize someone loved you long before you ever knew.
Arthur turned to her again, and his eyes—soft and blue and so damn sincere—met hers in the quiet.
“But now? Bein’ here with you, with her?” He motioned to Maisie between them. “If I went back and told myself this was where I’d end up… I wouldn’t believe it. Not for a second. The attraction was there, it never faded. I said it before... you were somethin’ else. Beautiful. Strong. Loyal. Braver than any man I’ve ever known. And I… I liked that about you.”
Sadie blinked fast, but the sting in her eyes didn’t go away.
She swallowed hard, voice cracking just slightly as she said, “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me, Morgan.”
Arthur smiled shyly. “Well. You earned every word.”
They leaned in closer, letting their shoulders touch, the firelight painting gold on their cheeks. Arthur laid his arm around Sadie’s back as Maisie snuggled deeper into her mother’s lap.
For a while, there were no more words. Just the crackle of the fire, the gentle weight of love unspoken for too long, and a quiet night where the past no longer had teeth—and the future held all the light they needed.