Disclaimer: I do NOT OWN ANYTHING from the making of this story!
Greetings there readers, it has been an incredibly long time since I have last written anything for the Red Dead Redemption fandom, let alone anything at all, unfortunately. I have recently gathered some ideas for this fandom as well as some original stories. I am hoping to get a story in this fandom finished because Red Dead Redemption is one of my favorites in the fan fiction world and I know a lot of people enjoy reading the numerous stories. This story isn't going to be overly long (I am hoping.) and it is going to revolve primarily around Bonnie Macfarlane and the many folks in her life, including our beloved outlaw John Marston and his family. There are going to be many surprising character cameos and I am pretty happy to be getting myself back into writing for this amazing fandom! This story is about the kidnapping of Bonnie Macfarlane, but no there isn't anything from the game in this. I don't want to announce too much and ruin anything so without further ado, please read and enjoy this story
Lost Daffodil: Pt: I
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There is a growling storm rising up from the east and the warm orange of the falling sun has turned into a wicked grayness. Drew Macfarlane has just returned from a won game of poker with some odd fellows in Thieves' Landing and he dismounts his Chestnut male near the barn. He holds on with a more tenacious hold than usual, seeing that his mount is in distress from the rumble in the sky and he walks the massive animal into it's previously cleaned stall. A few wines from the animal capture the attention of the other horses in the barn, but it doesn't cause Drew a struggle as he steers the horse into the stall, removing the bridle and the reins from the animal's head.
Drew brushes the cream mane of the horse just before leaving the stall and he exits the barn, heading for home. The wind starts to pick up and the shutters on the upstairs windows in the Macfarlane home wakes Bonnie from an accidental nap on the burgundy velvet upholstered chaise lounge at the foot of her bed.
Although she could use the rest, Bonnie is considerably relieved that the banging of the shutters wakened her. She can't even recall how she got upstairs; her hygiene routine doesn't start until morning and doesn't end until night with a good brushing of her teeth and hair. It's only the middle of the day. That's the sole reason for her ever coming upstairs, as well as sleeping. Bonnie examines her reflection in the dusty mirror of her vanity, fixes her sloppy updo and leaves her bedroom in search of her father.
The shutters continue to hit the windows, and she hears the front door close. She stands silently at the top of the staircase watching her father walk inside, soaked from head to toe. He struggles to pull his soaked boots off, and Bonnie hurries down the creaky steps to assist the aging man.
"Here Pa'," Bonnie says softly, helping Drew remove his soggy blazer. The old man lets his daughter help and he twists his arms from the cramped confines of the soaked material, turning around to face her. "Weather doesn't look too good Bonnie, you stay inside 'til it passes," Drew tells Bonnie with a calm tone and he taps her hand in a fatherly manner as he leaves the main entrance into the fairly large family room.
Bonnie sighs while watching him sit down on the lovely decorated loveseat and wanders off into the kitchen to boil some water. She retrieves the ceramic teapot from the stove and moves over to the porcelain sink turning on the faucet. The water usually sputters a little bit when turned on, and she fills the teapot, returning to the stove, where she bends to one knee, grabs the matchbox from the bottom cabinet and lights the logs inside the medium-sized belly of the stove. Once the stove is lit Bonnie takes a seat at the dining room table, looking down at today's paper. Nothing new going on anywhere, besides the usual deaths around the county.
She continues to sit in silence and the thought of John unexpectedly pops into her mind. She doesn't like admitting it but that outlaw overwhelms her thoughts quite a lot. Even after finding out that he's a married man, Bonnie continues to find him distracting her. Bonnie does feel guilty for thinking so much about that man but it doesn't seem to stop.
Bonnie directs her gaze upon the wooden clock resting beautifully in the center of the broad table and reads the time. 3:30 PM. It's getting late and all the work she's done today was clean out the horse stalls, wash some of the mildew off the eastern side of the house and grab a few groceries from Armadillo. That's barely anything considering Drew and Bonnie are busy from the crack of dawn till the night's twilight. Her father doesn't want her leaving the house until the storm passes and she knows she has to listen to his word but what is she going to do that's constructive in the house?
Sure the Macfarlane's aren't rich by any means but their home is priceless. Bonnie's mother always bought and had beautiful gifts like China dishware, a couple of lovely vanities and many other wonderful things given to her throughout her lifetime, bringing so much beauty into their home. They live in a home that would be located in Blackwater, but their lifestyle is so much different from the City folk.
There isn't anything that needs work on in the interior of the house. The exterior is what needs the most tending to and suddenly she has an idea. Bonnie grabs the newspaper, abandons the dining room and observes her father still sitting on the love seat in the family room snoring with his head hanging down. Bonnie gives her sleeping father a little smile and sets the newspaper beside him on the love seat, discreetly vacating the room, too familiar with where the squeaky floorboards are. She rolls down the sleeves of her cotton blouse, fiddles with her vest and looks over her shoulder at Drew before reaching for the door handle.
His snoring has become so loud that even with the obscene squeaking of the front door, Bonnie can perceive merely that. The roaring thunder continues and once Bonnie closes the door behind her, the whole world around her seems to be screaming at her.
The wind is whistling through the trees, and the rain is falling like bullets and the heat is cooling against the young rancher's visible skin. Standing on the front porch, Bonnie brushes back some unwanted pieces of hair from her face and brings her attention to the porch posts and railing in front of her. The brown of the wood is becoming much more visible now that the white paint has chipped away and it saddens her to know that her childhood home isn't going to be standing this tall forever.
Bonnie relaxes her fingers against the chipped post and sets her other hand upon the railing, staring ahead at the barn. John has been gone for a few long hours now, and she lets herself worry about him even though he's under the protective wing of the Marshal of Armadillo.
There is so much on her mind all the time. It's a rare thing when she isn't thinking about everything. Brushing back another piece of golden hair, Bonnie stares off into the ominous sky above the barn and listens to the wind, the shutters, and the bullet-like rain. She can hear a few of the cows crying out through the storm in the corral. Bonnie shifts her attention back to the posts and brushes her fingers against the chipped paint.
She sighs and in the distance, towards the train station, Bonnie can see a man on horseback. She wipes at her nose and puts both of her hands on her hips, hoping to see John. She remains still on the porch watching the man get closer. The closer the stranger got the more familiar his face became and she was instantly relieved.
John pulled on the reins of his dark brown mount and removed himself from the saddle with ease. He steered the horse up to the rancher's lovely home and hitched it before the picket fence. Their eyes met, and John gave her a friendly smile. "Look who's here," Bonnie said in a teasing tone, not moving a muscle from her current position. John looked just as soaked as her father once was and he slowly climbed the few steps to her porch. His smile quickly fades, and one of his gloved hands meets Bonnie's shoulder. Bonnie takes the gentle, yet confusing touch seriously and informs him to withdraw his hand. The man pulls his hand away, but the expression on his face is hard and a tad intimidating; it brings out more of the scars.
"Ms. Macfarlane, I have to inform you of something," John insists and Bonnie motions for John to follow her, not wanting to rouse her father by standing too close to the door. Bonnie takes a seat on the bench, thinking John would follow suit but he's still standing in front of her with his hands at his sides. Bonnie sits with her back erect and her hands resting across her lap. She looks up at John with a bit of worry in her gaze and impatiently waits for John to continue.
John doesn't want to worry her and he can tell his silence is already leaving her uneasy but he has to tell her. "There are bandits on the run Ms. Macfarlane, and they are all over the county," John says without a thought and can see Bonnie's expression change drastically. Her eyes leave his face and her head drops, eyes staring down at her hands. John slides one of his thumbs into his belt loops and removes his soppy wet hat from his head. He looks at her protectively and directs his gaze away to stare at the deep puddles in the slushy road.
The storm is the only sound right now. "Stay inside Ms. Macfarlane. I'll keep watch for a few hours," John says over the pouring rain and the thunder continuing to stare at the puddles. Bonnie lets out a sigh, and John returns his attention to her.
"Mr. Marston, you should know that the only man I listen to is my pa'," she states with a broad tone, securely crossing her arms. John fights back a chuckle and nods his head in agreement. John doesn't say another word to Bonnie as he takes a seat beside her, leaning forward into his lap. Bonnie doesn't make it obvious as she has in the past examining John. Her eyes catch sight of a pistol at his hip in a leather holster and the few blotches of dirt and blood on his pinstripe pants.
"Why do men always assume I need protection?" Bonnie groans in frustration but John can tell that it's just the way that she teases him. The rain finally dies down to a sprinkle and the thunder subsides. The grey clouds begin to part and before too long, the sun gleams through the little opening. John sets his hat back onto his head and the musty smell of his wet body floats over to Bonnie. The bitter scent of tobacco and musk is what makes John, John. She's admired his unique smell the minute Amos and herself found him nearly dead. John snickers and shakes his head at what Bonnie had said.
"What man wouldn't want to protect a woman, Ms. Macfarlane?" John asks, turning his head to look in Bonnie's direction. Of course, he was right but Bonnie won't tell him that. Bonnie crosses her arms again and leans back into the bench.
"You are one strange man, Mr. Marston," Bonnie admits, turning her eyes to him. John lets his chuckle escape his lips this time and it takes her by surprise but she doesn't take his silly chuckling seriously. Bonnie can tell by the look on John's face that he has more to say to her but before he can get it out, the back door slams shut, startling Bonnie and instantly both John and Bonnie are up on their feet, John the only one bearing a weapon. John insists that Bonnie stay close behind him and she listens to him. The mixed noises of their joined footsteps make nasty sloshing sounds as they make their way towards the back of the house. Rabbits and a few chickens flee from John and Bonnie as they near the garden and that's when the sound of glass rings wildly in their ears, followed by a loud gunshot from above.
John curses out in the open, twisting around to meet Bonnie who has been shot. John watches the blood stain Bonnie's blouse. The stain is large and the bullet got her in the lower abdomen. John hurries to catch Bonnie from falling while keeping a secure hold of his pistol. He sees the broken glass at his feet and brings his attention up to the second-floor window. "You son of a bitch!" John curses loudly and fires his pistol at the unfamiliar face which disappears before John's bullet could reach him.
A few voices can be heard from around the corner and John points his pistol only to find that they are just some of the worried ranch hands. John swallows the hard lump in his throat and ignores the wet mud that's soaking through his pants. He lets go of his only weapon right now and looks down at Bonnie. Her eyes are barely open and the ranch hands sneak closer. Her skin turns into a god awful white and it scares the shit out of him. Amos isn't around; the one time Bonnie gets hurt Amos isn't here. John keeps her in his arms and presses down onto her abdomen trying to stop the bleeding. He's so quiet that all he can hear is Bonnie's raspy breathing and the voices of the ranch hands.
John is practically frozen, looking down at Bonnie. He can't even speak. "What did you do?!" Drew screamed out loud, breaking through the large group of ranch hands that has formed near the garden and he drops to his knees, pushing John out of the way. He takes Bonnie into his arms and the amount of blood she has already lost is scary. Tears begin to fall from Drew's face and John stands up. He can only look down upon the Macfarlanes' as if he's meeting them for the first time.
Drew meets John's disoriented gaze. "What in God's name did you do John!" Drew yells and it startles the women around them. He shook his head and dropped to his knees. "I didn't do anything, Mr. Macfarlane, she was shot by an intruder," John admitted to Drew and Drew took note of the broken glass in the mud. Drew's sobs continue to grow and he tries to stand up with Bonnie in his arms but his strength is not like it was before. He's growing old and John took over, taking the wounded woman from Drew's bloodstained arms. Drew can't speak anymore and without a warning cry, gunshots are being fired into the sky causing the civilians and ranch hands to flee. John's on edge now and he has to get both Drew and Bonnie out of here.