The muse has been feeling generous lately, so I present to you a slight twist on our beloved Mary and Marshall based on Garth Brooks' In Lonesome Dove. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: Not mine!
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"Mama, when will we arrive?"
Mary blew out a breath as she fanned herself and pushed her thick blond hair off of her neck. "Complaining won't make us go any faster, Brandi," she growled.
"Girls," their mother clucked. "We'll be there soon."
Heaving a dramatic sigh, Brandi flung herself onto the bench and sprawled out in a very unladylike manner that made her mother make a disapproving noise.
Ignoring her mother and sister, Mary stared out through the flap of the wagon. Her father had died when Brandi was just a small child and Mary had helped take care of her ever since. Other girls her age were married with several children or stepchildren, but Mary had no interest in any of the eligible men or being a stepmother to several children while she had her first baby. Her mother hated her disinterest in getting married, but as Mary pointed out, it was her life to live.
A loud clap of thunder started the three women, and a sudden flash of lightning came moments before rain began falling in sleets from the sky.
Brandi sat up and huddled beside their mother as the wagon shook with the force of the storm.
Shaking her head, Mary pulled the flap back. "It's just a storm."
It was a storm, but it wasn't just a storm as Mary had insisted. The wagons circled around as the storm became worse and more threatening.
Mary was intelligent and she knew something was wrong when the wagons moved backward for a while, only to stop again.
Something was very, very wrong.
She was a girl on a wagon train
Heading west across the plains
The train got lost in a summer storm
They couldn't move west and they couldn't go home
Brandi clung to their mother, eyes wide with fear and uncertainty. "Mama?"
"Shush, Brandi. Everything will be alright."
Thunder rolled ominously overhead and the wind and rain tore viciously at the cover of their wagon.
"What if Indians come?"
Mary shook her head. "Just calm down, Brandi."
"But we're lost!"
"We're not lost."
"Yes, we are!"
Sighing, Mary ignored her nearly hysterical sister and looked through the flap again. To her surprise, someone on a horse was riding toward them. She froze.
Indians?
She struggled to see through the veil of rain. Indians meant certain death or worse for everyone in the wagons. Indians wanted scalps and pretty white women. Her stomach sank and she prayed to a god she was sure was no longer listening to her. She didn't want to die.
As the shape came closer, she saw a brown hat resting on the man's head, as well as a flash of silver. Her heart jumped in her chest.
The man came charging into the train and took charge of the frightened horses. Mary could hear him yelling out to the men of her camp and relief washed over her when she realized he was helping them back onto their correct path.
The storm finally began to ease as the man came around to the back again.
"Who is that?" Mary's mother demanded.
"He's a lawman," Mary finally responded, amazed. "He saved us."
He finally came close enough so that she could see the crystal cerulean of his eyes, and she knew, she just knew, she wouldn't be following her mother and sister west.
Then she saw him riding through the rain
He took charge of the wagons and he saved the train
She looked down and her heart was gone
The train went west but she stayed on in Lonesome Dove
Mary's mother and sister had called her crazy, but lying in Marshall's arms and listening to the rain softly hitting the roof, she knew she was right where she needed to be.
Marshall pressed a soft kiss to the back of her neck. "What are you thinking about, my desert rose?"
She rubbed his arm and gave a small shake of her head. "Nothing in particular."
"Are you sure?"
"Mm hm."
Marshall Mann was one of the best and most well-known Texas Rangers the west had ever known. Criminals everywhere feared him and he fiercely defended the small town of Lonesome Dove with his life. Everyone loved and respected him, none more than Mary. They both were grateful for the unfortunate storm that had brought them together and could not imagine a world without one another.
A farmer's daughter with a gentle hand
A blooming rose in a bed of sand
She loved the man who wore the star
A Texas Ranger known near and far
Their son was born on a sunny July morning. To Marshall's great relief, the labor was short and relatively easy for his feisty wife. He wasn't allowed to see either of them until they were cleaned up and the midwife came for him.
"They're both healthy and happy," she assured him when he practically ran over to her.
He let out a long, relieved breath and entered their bedroom.
Mary was sitting up in their bed, nursing their tiny son. Her eyes lit up when she saw Marshall ease into the room. "Hi…"
He removed his hat and hung it up. "Hi." He looked to her, silently seeking permission which she happy gave with a wave of her hand. Smiling broadly, he made his way to the bed and sat down beside her, his eyes fixed on their nursing son.
Mary rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, yawning deeply. "He's perfect."
"Of course he is," Marshall murmured contently, his hand coming up and cupping his tiny son's head. "Hello, Jacob Elias."
Mary let out a breathy chuckle and fell asleep against Marshall.
Marshall gathered his wife and child into his arms, marveling at both of them.
"You're only a few minutes old, Jacob," he whispered, lightly stroking the newborn's cheek, "but we love you so much already."
The newborn grunted softly, waving a tiny fist in the air.
"I'll always be here for you, son."
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Four years later, Mary awoke to the clashing of thunder. Jacob was sleeping in her arms and Marshall was getting dressed. She watched him drowsily.
He turned around and gave her a wink. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart," he rumbled as he leaned down and stroked her hair.
"Mm…"
He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "I'll see you tonight."
"Love you…"
Marshall chuckled and kissed her nose. "Love you, too."
Then he was gone and Mary fell asleep again with their son.
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The hours passed, and as usual Mary cooked dinner while Jacob played outside. She was just setting the table when Jacob let out a terrified scream and wailed for her. Dropping the plate in her hand, Mary grabbed the gun Marshall had left for her and ran outside, expecting ruffians or a rattler threatening her little son.
What she didn't expect to see was her husband being carried through the grass.
"Marshall!"
Shoving the gun into the folds of her skirt, Mary ran to the deputies as they regarded her with solemn faces. Her heart pounded as she caught a glimpse of Marshall's pale face before they carried him into the house and laid him in their bed.
"The doctor is coming, ma'am," one deputy said, removing his hat.
Mary's hands trembled as she cradled Marshall's head. "Leave us!"
The deputies nodded and filed out of the bedroom.
Marshall stirred weakly in his wife's arms and his cerulean eyes briefly opened. "Mary…"
"I'm here, Marshall. Everything's going to be alright."
He managed a small smile and Mary kissed him.
"I love you…"
When she pulled away, his eyes were closed and he no longer drew breath. Mary sobbed and cradled him closer, never seeing their son standing in the doorway with a broken-hearted expression on his face.
"Marshall…"
So they got married and they had a child
But times were tough and the west was wild
So it was no surprise the day she learned
That her Texas man would not return to Lonesome Dove
Mary buried her husband two days later. She had known all along that loving a man of the law carried this risk and she was grateful for the time they had spent together, but there was also a seed born of bitterness planted in her broken heart for all that should have but wouldn't be.
Jacob stood by his mother, straight and rigid with his father's hat resting on his small head and his star clutched in his dirty fist. "Mama?"
"Yes, Jacob?"
"I'm gonna be a ranger."
Mary closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. "Jacob…"
"I am, Mama! You'll see." He pulled the brim of his father's hat down. "I'll make you proud."
"I'm already proud of you, darling."
"Even more proud!"
She opened her watery eyes and knelt down in front of her son. Then she pulled him into a fierce hug. "I love you, Jacob."
"I love you, too, Mama."
Back to back with the Rio Grande
The Christian woman in the devil's land
She learned the language and she learned to fight
But she never learned how to beat the lonely nights in Lonesome Dove
The years passed after Marshall's death and though she had suitors, Mary could never bring herself to remarry. Marshall had been the only man she could ever love wholeheartedly. She knew if she could speak to him, he would have told her to fall in love again and remarry, to carry on with her life and find happiness, but she simply couldn't. The only happiness she could seem to find was in her son, who grew to look just like his father.
She couldn't say she was surprised when Jacob kept his youthful promise and became a ranger after he had completed school at Mary's behest. He wanted to protect his town, just as his father had done.
He came by one Sunday morning while Mary was making breakfast. "Morning, Mama."
Mary turned and for a split-second, she could have sworn she was looking at Marshall. Her heart ached but she smiled at her only child. "Hello, sweetheart. Are you hungry?"
"No, ma'am." He crossed the floor and hugged her, nearly lifting her off of the floor.
Laughing, Mary wrapped her arms around his neck. "Put me down, you silly boy!"
He squeezed her once more before gently setting her on the floor again.
Still laughing softly, Mary adjusted the front of his shirt and touched the star that had once adorned Marshall's shirt. "I know I say it all the time, but your father would be so proud of you."
"I'm glad, Mama. I love being a ranger."
"Of course you do. It's all you ever wanted to be."
He graced her with a warm smile and they talked for a little while before Jacob finally had to leave again. Mary watched him go with a small, sad smile.
"I wish you could see him, Marshall."
She watched her boy grow into a man
He had an angel's heart and the devil's hand
He wore his star for all to see
He was a Texas lawman's legacy
When Jacob was twenty-four, whispers began in the town he guarded. Everyone in Lonesome Dove either had known his father or like him, grew up hearing the stories of the slain ranger. Jacob knew in his heart that one day he would find the men responsible for his father's death, so when he began hearing rumors of Connor Allister, he knew the time was coming.
Allister had been wanted for bank robbing and murder for quite some time. Word came in that he had just robbed another bank and was planning to make a run for Mexico, where he could easily disappear with his men and the money they had stolen. The only thing standing between them and Mexico was Lonesome Dove.
When he knew the men were coming his way, Jacob was ready. He didn't tell his mother what he expected, but he knew she would be glad to see justice for Marshall.
They entered Lonesome Dove in the early afternoon and Jacob came outside, his guns ready.
He would avenge his father.
Then one day word blew into town
It seemed the men that shot his father down
Had robbed a bank in Cherico
The only thing 'tween them and Mexico was Lonesome Dove
As he walked through the town, it seemed to Jacob that everyone had disappeared indoors. He didn't blame them. The men he was about to put down were evil creatures.
He turned a corner and saw four men on horses just a few paces from him.
God, give me strength…
He drew a single breath and reached for his gun.
Shots began firing from what seemed like all directions. Jacob aimed with precision and fired as smoke began to fill his vision.
The shots suddenly came to a cease and when Jacob could see through the thinning smoke, the men responsible for his father's death lay dead on the ground. He put his gun away and closed his eyes briefly, unable to believe he was somehow still alive.
Hours later, he went to his mother's home and told her what had happened. Then he held her as she sobbed into his chest and he knew he had done the right thing.
The shadows stretched across the land
As the shots rang out down the Rio Grande
And when the smoke had finally cleared the street
The men lay at the ranger's feet
"And to this very day, people swear there were shots coming from the alleyway," Marshall murmured as his three children sat at his feet and stared up at him, entranced. "But if you ask someone in Lonesome Dove, they will tell you it was the ghost of Jacob's father helping his son."
Nora tilted her head slightly. "But Dad, ghosts can't shoot."
"Then who shot Allister and his guys?" Jacob demanded, glaring at his sister.
"Jacob did!"
"But people said they heard shots from another direction!"
Nora scoffed. "Like who? Everyone was hiding like cowards!"
"They didn't wanna get hurt."
"Cowards," Nora repeated.
Marshall hushed his oldest children before he continued. "Maybe ghosts aren't real, maybe they are. But someone did help Jacob shoot the men who killed his father." He took a deep breath and leaned closer to the children. "And Jacob was my great, great grandfather."
Jacob and Nora stared at him in disbelief.
"No way!"
He chuckled softly. "Yes. He was your great, great, great grandfather."
"So that's all a real story?"
Marshall nodded patiently. "It's very real. Jacob, Marshall, Mary…they all lived."
Nora looked at her brother, then back to their father. "So Jacob…"
"Is named for Jacob, my great, great grandfather."
"What about Mama?"
Marshall looked at Mary, who was lying on the couch and rubbing her very large belly. His mouth turned up in a warm smile. "The fact that I married your mother and that we have the same names as Mary and Marshall in my story is a very amazing coincidence."
Norah shook her head. "Mama doesn't believe in coincidences."
"No, she doesn't," Mary called out, causing them to laugh.
Marshall blew her a kiss before turning back to their three children. Sammy, their youngest son, climbed into his lap and settled against his chest. Marshall kissed his head.
"What happened to Jacob after the shootout?" Nora demanded, scooting closer to him.
"Well, Jacob told his mother what had happened, and she was very relieved. Then he went on to marry a young lady named Elizabeth. They had four sons, Michael, Christopher, Alexander and Jacob, who all had lots of children. They moved away from Lonesome Dove eventually and settled all over the United States. Jacob Jr. stayed in Texas and raised his family, my grandfather and eventually my father."
"Wow," Jacob murmured, his blue eyes wide and round.
"Yes, wow, son. Now, how about another story? This one is about a very nice marshal and a very cranky marshal…"
The legend tells to this very day
That shots were coming from an alleyway
But no one knows who held the gun
There ain't no doubt if you ask someone in Lonesome Dove
The End.