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Arthur Morgan had the ability to sleep anywhere. His wife used to joke she would someday find him passed out in their ranch, sleeping like a baby. It wouldn't be the worst place the man has ever fallen asleep in though. But he'll forever prefer the bed they share. The back aches still deep in his bones from the years of sleeping in that damned cot.
But sometimes Arthur finds himself wanting to get away from the material type of his life, when exhaustion hits him after working on the farm, he'll find himself leaned up on the tree, knocking his hat to cover his eyes, and easily dozing off.
Arthur doesn't know how long he had slept for, probably not too long. But he suddenly feels a weight being thrown on top of him and a voice shriek in his ears; “Papa! Guess what!”
Arthur jerks awake - his hat falling off - and looks at the little girl in his lap giving him a toothy grin.
Morgan Callahan. His daughter sits in his lap, the same brown curls she got from her mother that were wild and untamed, and a sparkle in her blue eyes that had died in Arthur’s by the time he was her age.
Arthur will forever remember the day she was born. Coming into this world with the force of the storm that followed her arrival, Arthur had to sit there by himself while he listened to his wife's wails behind the door. His late son sitting in the back of his mind, the what if's racing so fast he could barely process them.
What if he fails her like he failed Isaac?
He doesn’t think he can survive through that again.
But the minute the moans and crying from Emmaline had stopped and were replaced by the baby’s cry is when Arthur swears his heart stopped. And didn’t start up again until he got to hold that baby and it was announced it was a little girl.
Arthur and Emmaline's little girl.
Arthur was afraid he would be the worst father to their little girl. But Emmaline looked up to him, the force of her confidence and love for him jarring him for a moment. “We should name her Morgan. I wouldn't trust anyone else in the world with my child - our child. She deserves to carry a name that holds a weight of strength.”
Morgan had no idea who she was named after for their family and her own safety - Arthur unfortunately still had a pretty penny for his head judging by some posters he had run across in the towns he goes to do some trading or get a horse for breeding. They were weathered and didn’t seem to be taken care of. But the safety of their family meant more to him than anything.
As far as their daughter knew, their name was Callahan. They were going to keep it that way.
“Yes, sweetheart” Arthur grumbles as he adjusts her position on his lap to be more comfortable and not restrict his breathing.
“Mama said it was time to go!”
“Did she?”
“Yes, she said to come and get you!”
Arthur remembered he had promised both girls he would let them join him on his next trip fishing. Morgan was so excited at the idea of joining him, he couldn’t deny her. And Emmaline was easy to persuade to join them, becoming a whole family event. He had forgotten it was today and he had promised them they would go after he was done with his morning chores.
“Well, Mama says it’s time to go. Can’t ignore that.” Arthur lifts Morgan off of his lap and slowly raises himself, grabbing his hat while he does.
Morgan was quick to slip her hand into his rougher one - one stained in blood and pain, but the way she held on was like these hands would only protect her than cause her harm. It was an odd feeling.
Morgan was 6 years old but a part of Arthur didn’t feel worthy to hold such a fragile, bright light. His hands have caused pain for so many others, how was he worthy to hold this soul? And not taint it with all his sin.
Arthur remembers how afraid he was to hold Morgan those first few weeks of her life.
Emmaline stood with him as she held their daughter and gently encouraged him to hold her. “You won’t hurt her, darling” She would tell him, “let her show you, you’re worth more than causing fear and pain.”
And Morgan has done that throughout her whole life.
Arthur and Morgan walk up to the little house he and Emmaline had built over the years, it was small but it had everything the two of them needed. The old outlaw was quick to spot out his wife standing by their horses, brushing her fingers through the mane. Pumpkin , she had named the mare because of the chestnut mane. And her love for pumpkins.
Lady stood next to Pumpkin, waiting patiently for the old outlaw, but Arthur could see Emmaline had packed her for this trip.
“Found him, Mama!”
Emmaline looks away from Pumpkin to the two of them, a smile developing on her lips once his eyes catches her. Arthur still feels his heart hammer in his chest anytime their eyes meet. Somehow, after all these years, this woman still has such a hold on him.
“Nice job, darling.” The woman smiles, “where did you find him?”
“Sleeping against the tree!’
“Of course,” Emmaline looks up to Arthur as he meets her, a soft, gentle look in her eyes. It’s something Arthur had noticed when they first moved here. He made a vow that day to make sure that look would never fade. So far he’s kept that vow. “Always could sleep anywhere he wishes.”
“A learned skill, sweetheart.” Arthur reached her, letting their daughter go so he could greet her mother properly. “I would never say no to some company.” He says while pressing a kiss to her lips gently. Smiling against her as he feels her lean against his larger build.
“I may take you up on that offer, darling.” Emmaline whispers, her eyes still closed as he pulls away. A little flush growing on her cheeks.
Morgan - having gotten tired of waiting for her parents to stop being gross - whined and tugs at her fathers sleeve while exclaiming “Papa, we gotta go before the sun goes to sleep!”
Both parents let out a laugh and reluctantly part to look down on their daughter. The same adorable pout she's had since she was a little baby.
“You are right, Morgan.” Emmaline says, despite the sun just now settling at 7AM and wouldn't set for a few more hours. “Who do you want to ride with? Mama or papa?”
“Papa!” Morgan says without a beat.
“Alright,” Arthur grunts as he turns to the girl and leads her to the side with Lady. “Do you have everything? Your fishing pole?”
“Yes, Papa! Mama had it on Pumpkin.”
“Good! Let's get going then.”
Arthur mounts Lady and leans his arm out for Morgan to take a hold of. The girl has gotten used to this routine now, so she grips onto his arm and lets him lift her up so she could mount herself in front of her father.
Morgan is getting heavier now as she ages, and Arthur is getting much too old to do this any longer as he feels his back twinge as he raises her up. Soon they'll have to get some steps so she can hoist herself up.
Or her own horse. Arthur makes a mental note to start teaching her some bonding techniques so she’ll be ready to ride on her own in a few years. She had been asking for her own horse, but Arthur had promised to teach her on her 8th birthday.
She has been insistent on reminding him since he had said it.
Arthur takes the lead to the lake he fishes at, Emmaline lazily riding up next to him with Pumpkin. Morgan asks her million of questions along the way - nature, about the world, why something is the way it is. God, she never runs out of questions. Hosea would’ve loved that if he got to meet her.
Arthur quickly brushed the thought away before he could dwell on it any further.
When the family arrives at the lake Arthur usually comes to fish, Arthur sliding off Lady and helping Morgan down safely. Arthur helped his wife set up a little spot for her to lounge and wait near the water.
“Papa, does fishing hurt the fish?” Morgan asks as she watches her father prepare her fishing pole.
“Well, yes. They don’t really like having a hook in their mouth.”
“ What?!” She shrieks so loudly it makes both parents jump. Arthur stops what he’s doing to stare at their daughter in surprise at this sudden outburst. “We’re going to hurt the fish!?”
“Sweetheart, hold on, it’s nothing to be upset about. Uh...” Arthur tries to wrack his brain for an answer that’ll comfort his daughter. But coming up short.
“Think of it this way, Morgan. The fish eat eggs, insects, and other fish. It’s part of their life and world.” Emmaline swoops as Arthur struggles to come up with an answer. “It’s how not only we survive, but how they survive. We’ll be respectful of these fish and how they can nourish our life, just like they do.”
“But I don’t like hurting them.” Morgan pouts. Starting to tug at her sleeves uneasily.
“It’s not that long, sweetheart. And we will make it as stress free as we can.” Arthur tries to reassure her.
“Promise?”
“I promise. And if you really don’t like it, you don’t need to do it at all.”
“I don’t?” Her eyes go wide, letting go of her sleeves as a weight lifts from her shoulder.
“It’s important to learn for your own survival, but you don’t need to do it until you are ready or when it becomes essential.” Emmaline says as she rubs Morgan’s shoulders, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You can help me with mending some of your own and your father’s clothes. Or try your hand at knitting.”
Morgan perks up at that idea and Arthur sets her fishing pole aside, ready to be used when she is ready. “Just let us know if you want to try it out.”
“Okay, papa!”
Arthur stands at the edge of the lake with his own fishing pole as he listens to his girls, Emmaline talking to her quietly as she teaches their daughter how to handle a thread and needle until they switch to yarn and needle.
Every once in a while he’ll glance back to them to watch. The soft and loving look in Emmaline’s face as she watches over their daughter concentrates to thread a needle with the yarn, determined to get it the first try. “There you go, darling.” Emmaline says as Morgan finishes a new row. “You’re getting there!”
“This is hard!”
“It’s hard because it’s new to you. With practice, you’ll be able to knit like it’s no big deal.”
“I will?”
“You know how Mama knows how to heal others when they get hurt?”
“Uh-huh,”
“I learned how to do that all by practice.”
“Believe me, I was her practice dummy when she was getting the hang of it.” Arthur chimes in. “I have the scars to prove it.”
He hears his wife scoff while Morgan giggles to herself.
As time went on, the more restless Morgan got. Eventually she got bored of the knitting and thread. Instead, finding it better to start collecting various rocks and flowers she likes. Doing that until her mother called for them to have some lunch. Arthur reels and sets his fishing pole away for now to enjoy some of the food his wife has prepared, smiling as he returns to the blanket they had set up and seeing a pile of his daughter’s treasures.
The girl devours the sandwiches her mother had prepared, talking both her parents' ears off until the exhaustion of the day hits her. Giant yawns leave her mouth until she curls up with her mother, using her lap as a pillow as she slips off to sleep.
The two parents sit there together as they listen to the ambience of the lake, an afternoon breeze caressing their skin, and the soft snores coming from their daughter they have raised together these past 6 years.
Arthur didn’t think he would ever get this life. This peace . It seemed like a far away dream he would never grasp.
He looks down to Emmaline who is brushing her fingers through their daughter’s unruly hair, such a tender and loving touch. He could feel the love she felt for their daughter radiate off her. How lucky she was to have a mother like her who loves those around her unconditionally.
“Thank you.”
Emmaline looks up to her husband, raising her eyebrow. “Why are you thanking me?”
“For anything… for her, for this life, for loving a fool like me…”
Emmaline’s eyes soften and she stops brushing Morgan’s hair to caress her husband’s cheek, his eyes closing momentarily to commit the touch to memory.
“You never need to thank me for something that comes easily as breathing.” She breathes as she brushes her thumb across the beard that decorates his cheek. “Loving you is the easiest thing I have ever done, darling.”
“As it does for me, sweetheart.”
Arthur dips his head down to press his lips against her own, smiling against her lips as she leans into him again and a content sigh against his lips.