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Baxter stared at him for a long moment and he exhaled as he simply nodded, moving to sink back down onto the step, holding his stomach with one hand and sitting on the step as he stared at the icy ground. He rubbed his stomach slowly and looked down at it as he did, he didn't know what would happen next and wasn't exactly sure he wanted to know, he just wanted to ignore it all. Act like those last three years of his life never happened.
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Samuel is kept for the next 2 weeks, the doctor doing everything that he can to keep his fever low and keep him on some fluids to keep his strength up. It was touch and go, there are times when he would seem to be getting better only to get worse a few hours later.
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Baxter had started taking time to himself, John wasn't around for the few years that he had his son so it wasn't much of a change than before. As he took to not spending so much time in the room with Samuel, he hated to see him like that and it smelt like death. It helped him if he drank, he could ignore what was going down a few buildings down the road and even as he was so heavily pregnant he couldn't even think about the growing life inside of him. He could care less while his son was there dying.
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They were in the small town for nearly a month. Johnathan came out of the doctors office one morning, Samuel laying his head against his shoulder. He had woken up about an hour or so ago, asking for Baxter. Johnathan knew where to find him, and he knew that Baxter would step foot inside the clinic, so he would take Samuel to him.
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The man barely looked up to the door, he hated himself for going so soft, for caring about another life other than himself. He was a bounty hunter, he killed and maimed to get what he needed to get done, he wasn't father material. Yet he tried his best to raise his son, he tried his best not to risk his life any more, though he thought this was it for Samuel, for himself. He saw as John stood in the doorway of the tavern, letting in cool early spring air, he didn't know why he would bring Samuel with him, he should let the boy rest while he could. Especially when sometimes he woke up in so much pain from the fever and puking, he couldn't hate the sight though. He couldn't bring himself to as he watched him approach,"What're you doin'?"he asked him, obviously drunk,"He should be in bed-"he belched, pushing himself up to his feet shakily.
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"He wanted to see his father." Samuel still had a bit of a fever but it had gone down considerably from what it had been when they first arrived.
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Baxter gave up on standing and ran a hand through his hair,"This ain't no place for him to be." He leaned his head in his hand and exhaled as he looked up at John again, then to the boy who laid in his arms. It was becoming impossible to ignore,"Give him here then." He told him.
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