Chapter Track: "By Way of Sorrow" – The Wailin' Jennys

Morning came too soon for the people of MacFarlane ranch. Hardly any birds sang their cheery tunes; the livestock barely uttered a sound as the morning chores began. A heavy mournful air hung over the ranch like fog.

Jack awoke in his cell bed in a bleak state of mind; he was confused and crushed by the hollow, ragged hole he felt in his chest and soul. He barely knew the three men that died yesterday, and as if his guilt wasn't enough, he felt less of an accomplished man. The past month had been an upward battle in his climb for honor, and now, even as he felt so near the top, his grip had slipped on a jagged rock and he had fallen back to the very bottom, bruised and battered. The events of the other day repeated relentlessly in his mind's eye.

He wasn't surprised to see Bonnie dressed in black, no less, and carrying a black suit over her shoulder as she came into the sheriff's office to unlock his cell door; he knew Maddie wouldn't have been strong enough to do it.

"Mornin', Bonnie," he murmured as he sat up in bed. He flung back the covers with a flick of his hand. "How are you feelin'? How's Maddie doin'?" He swung his legs out from under the sheets and stood up.

She scoffed and shook her head as she returned the skeleton key to her breast pocket. She didn't make eye contact with him as she stepped back to give him room to walk out. Her voice came out in a pained, hushed undertone. "It's not the greatest morning I've had, I'll tell you that much. Maddie's doin' fine. She's a little weak and can't move around much, but she's doin' well enough for someone who's been shot twice." She gestured for him to come forward. "You'll need to get your chores done as soon as possible. The funeral starts at nine o'clock, and I want everyone to be done with their work, at least most of it, so we can all honor them properly."

Jack nodded. "Sure thing, miss. But…am I even allowed to attend?"

Bonnie locked eyes with him for the first time that day. "Jack Marston, why on earth would you say that? Of course you're allowed to attend! Why wouldn't you be?"

He shrugged as he walked out of his cell. "Well, would you want the person responsible for their deaths to attend the funeral? I certainly wouldn't." He headed for the door to get to his morning chores.

She caught his arm and held him back. She looked into his eyes when he glanced back at her, and she said tenderly, "You're not responsible for any of this, Jack. Don't take the blame for something you didn't do." She handed him the black suit she held over her shoulder and added, "After you get done with chores, change into this. It's one of Nathaniel's suits, but it should fit you well enough for the funeral."

He frowned as he took the suit from her and hung it on the cell door before walking outside. She followed him, and when he stepped out to face the dreary day, she departed from his side to prepare for the service. As he labored through his chores alongside the silent ranch hands, he couldn't help but let his self-inflicted guilt eat away at him like a parasite feasting upon its host. The deaths of Joshua, Bill, and Ira struck deep within him, and despite all the horrid things he'd done in the past month, despite the fifteen people he'd murdered, the massacre of his former co-workers plunged him into an insatiable black well of bereavement. He went through the motions of his morning routine, not really seeing what he was doing.

When it came time for the funeral service to begin, he lingered behind as he carried several square hay bales into the horse corral. He chucked the bales a few feet in front of him and picked up the baling twine after it broke. As the herd gathered around him and ate their fill, he was taken by surprise when someone shouted at him from behind.

"What are you doin', Marston? Stop dinkin' around and go change into that suit!"

He turned around and felt his jaw drop. Maddie stood on the other side of the fence, looking rather annoyed and in a considerable amount of pain. Her vest, shirt, and pants were all black; her outfit was complete with her black duster and hat. Her hair was pulled back into a braid. She leaned against a cane, still favoring her right leg badly, and she kept her left arm tucked close to her side.

"You deaf or somethin'? Get goin', or you'll be late!"

"Why should I attend? I have no right to be there with everyone else. They all hate me, now that three of their best men are dead and I rode in here last night with you bleedin' all over me and my saddle and holdin' your gun in my hand. What would they think if I were to show up? What good's that gonna do for everyone?"

She stared at him with an appalled countenance. "What? They all respect you now, not hate you! The fact that you came back and told Bonnie what happened instead of getting' on your horse and leavin' me out there to bleed out says quite a lot. Do not think your work has been in vain; we all saw firsthand how you manned up and took the reins after something atrocious happened. You acted honorably, just like the incident with the horse thief, which surprised the hell out of us all. Everyone sees you differently. Think about that the next time you wanna open your mouth and say such stupid things. Now come on. We don't wanna be late."

"Right. Sorry." He walked briskly out of the corral and closed the gate behind him. He caught up with her within several long strides and fell into the slow, painful gait she limped as she led him back to the sheriff's office. He noticed how much effort it took for her to move, as well as the exasperated, agonized visage that scrunched up her beautiful face. "Are you sure you're gonna be okay to go? You look like you've been to hell and back, Maddie." He brought up a hand towards her waist. "Do you need any ?"

"Don't even think about askin' me if I need help," she shot back, giving him a warning glare out of the corner of her eye. "I'm just fine, princess. I've been shot at least half a dozen times. I can get along just fine on my own."

He withdrew his hand as they came up to the sheriff's office. Christ alive, he thought with a roll of his eyes. Why does she have to be so headstrong? She's bein' a fool if she thinks she's just fine limpin' around the way she is. She looks absolutely miserable.

Maddie waited outside as he went into his cell and changed. It didn't take him long to figure it out, seeing as he had never worn a suit before, but he didn't know how to tie a tie. Uncertain, he carried the tie in his hand as he stepped out of his cell. He couldn't help but feel uncomfortable and inadequate: the suit fit him well, but he certainly didn't feel himself in it. Nevertheless, he stepped outside and stood before Maddie, feeling his face flush with embarrassment and a quaint frown pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Damn, Marston!"

"What?"

She looked him up and down. "You know, for bein' a grungy bastard, you clean up surprisingly well."

"Um…thanks…?"

She rolled her eyes when she noticed the black tie hanging from his right hand. "Oh, good God, princess. Give me that." She ripped the tie out of his hand and stepped closer to him. "Hold still. I'm not gonna choke you or anything…unless you piss me off and prompt me to do that."

Jack stood rigid and lifted his chin as she wrapped the tie around his neck and began tying it. He looked off to the side, avoiding eye contact with her as she primped him.

Maddie shook her head and sighed as she worked her magic. "It's like you've never worn a suit before or something…but then again, I wouldn't expect much of you anyways."

He snorted as he glanced down at her. "I've never had the occasion to wear a suit. That, and I just don't care to own one."

She chuckled as she finished with the tie. "I stand by my previous statement, boy." She adjusted the collar of his shirt and his jacket before she stepped back to look him over. "There. You look like a gentleman…well, as well as you'll ever be."

"Thanks," he responded as he looked her in the eyes. He could've sworn he saw a flash of what looked like an affectionate gleam in her brown ovals, but then she looked away. Jack cleared her throat and asked, "Why do you never wear women's clothes? You afraid of looking too feminine, or what?"

She blinked several times before answering, "It just suits me better. Bonnie wanted me to wear one of her black dresses today, and I took one look at it and said, 'Hell no'. Don't get me wrong, dresses are nice and all, but they sure as hell don't go well with me."

"You might be able to pull off a dress, Maddie. You never know. I'm wearin' a suit right now, and I thought I'd never wear one in my life, much less supposedly look good in one…but here we are."

"Well, you do…surprisingly."

He looked away over in the direction of the funeral as he felt his cheeks redden. He motioned over to the gathering crowd of ranch hands with a jerk of his head and said, "Come on. Let's head over there so we won't be late."

Without another word, she led the way to the funeral service.

The men and women of the ranch had gathered behind the barn, right underneath the large oak tree that neared the edge of the property. Everyone donned black clothing: the women wore veils and held handkerchiefs to their faces as they wept; the men wore their finest suits and held their bowler hats in their hands. Three holes had been dug beneath the shade of the tree; a wagon and horse sat somberly waiting nearby with the three coffins in tow. Bonnie stood alongside her father Drew and her husband Nathaniel before the large gathering crowd of ranch hands, who had all congregated into a half-circle around the funeral. Conversation had all but ceased to exist; only the sigh of the breeze across the plains and through the leaves could be heard.

Jack was surprised to finally see Bonnie's husband; he hadn't seen him once since he came to the ranch. He was uncommonly handsome in his black tailored suit, with short black hair and a neat beard and mustache. He emitted a strong aura of silent but obedient consent from all who looked upon him. He was educated, logical, and a portrait of steadfast masculinity. A part of this man's character unnerved him; if he had been wearing his pistol, he would've placed a wary hand on it. What does Bonnie see in this man? He's just…so different from her.

Nathaniel, Drew, and Bonnie greeted him and Maddie with small nods and weak grins of acknowledgement. Drew was the first to offer his hand to him and begin the pleasantries.

"It's good to have you here with us, Jack," he murmured in his deep, booming voice.

Jack took his hand and shook it. "Thank you, Mister MacFarlane. How have you been? It's been a while since I've seen you."

"I'm doin' well enough," Drew replied. "I'm gettin' along in my years, but I do what I can. I'm glad my daughter has the same spirit and work ethic as I did when I was her age; otherwise, this ranch would've been run down by now." He glanced proudly at his daughter before he looked back at Jack and rested a meaty hand on his shoulder. "You look better since the last time I saw you. Hell, that's been months ago now, but I'm glad you're finally gettin' back on your feet after all that Bonnie's told me about you. It's good to see you, Jack."

"You, too, sir. Thank you."

Drew turned to Maddie and embraced her in an engulfing hug. She seemed ridiculously small in his arms. "Thank God you're all right, Maddie," he said softly. "If I would've lost you yesterday, it would be like losin' Bonnie."

"It takes a hell of a lot more to get rid of me," she responded as they released each other. She gave him a comforting grin and patted his arms. "You know as well as I do I don't go down without a fight."

"But you're not invincible, Maddie," Jack added softly, his eyes fixating on her wounds.

She turned to him and lifted her chin defiantly. "I know that."

He cocked an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Do you?"

The menacing glare she gave him shut him up and shun her seething gaze. Instead, he looked to Nathaniel, who stood at Drew's left, and offered a hand to him.

"It's good to see you, Nathaniel," he offered, extending his hand toward the quiet, cold man. "Haven't seen you in a long while. What you been up to?"

The man looked at him like that of a despicable creature; the corner of his lip curled up in slight disgust, and his blue eyes iced over with distrust. He hesitated to shake Jack's hand and meet gazes with him, but he did so nonetheless. The words seemed forced from his thin lips as he replied, "Business has been rather slow at the moment with the threat of those cattle rustlers about. However, now that they've been dealt with, I imagine things will pick back up and I can return to my bookkeeping and figures. I suppose we have you to thank for that."

"Hey, he wasn't the only one to liberate the ranchers around these parts," Maddie pitched in, her voice growing dark as she looked at Nathaniel with as much disgust as he had when he looked at Jack. "Need I remind you all of us here at the ranch work hard so that you don't have to? Joshua, Ira, and Bill knew of such things, and they lived their lives well. Give credit where it's due, not just to one man, but to all of us here at Bonnie's ranch."

The air between them was shrouded with an invisible thundercloud, darkening the mood with the threat of a torrential argument. The icy silence nearly sent a lightning strike of words, if not fists, between the man and woman, and if it weren't for Bonnie speaking up when she did, there would've surely been a fight. Bonnie stepped between them and said, "Come on, now. It's time for the service to begin. Let's not waste our time with such useless conversation when we should be honoring our friends."

The hatred between Maddie and Nathaniel lingered. Jack had to pull her away. It only took a moment for her to regain her self-control and stifle her hubris, and when she did, she shrugged his hand off her shoulder and walked off toward the opposite side of the crowd, as far away from Nathaniel as possible. When they were out of earshot, Jack leaned in and murmured, "What was that all about?"

She glared down at her boots, keeping her weight on her left leg and grimacing all the while, whether out of pain or anger he did not know. "Nathaniel and I have never much gotten along well," she whispered back with a voice like venom. "He's a lazy, well-to-do prick who thinks he's above everyone else. And he isn't the man I'd like to see married to Bonnie; he's hardly here on the ranch, and when he is, he walks around acting like he owns the place. Sure, Bonnie and him are married, but everyone around here doesn't call her Mrs. Jones, and he sure as hell hasn't earned his spurs to be considered a part of this place, anyway. He's in Blackwater most of the time anyways, dealing with the affairs of the ranch…among other things." She looked up at him. "I can bet you any kind of money he's doin' more than just "bookkeeping"."

"What, are you suggesting he…cheats on Bonnie?"

She nodded curtly. "He's a lyin' son of a bitch, and if I ever find out if my assumptions are correct, I will not hesitate to castrate that bastard and make him eat his own manhood."

"Somehow, I don't doubt that," Jack chuckled darkly. "But how can you be so sure?"

"He's never around," Maddie countered, "and when he is, he's hardly the caring, devoted husband Bonnie tells herself he is. A husband should always be there for his wife and treat her like a queen, not abandon her to go off to a town a day's ride away to "work". I hate seein' Bonnie so alone and sad most of the time, and it's his goddamn fault! She doesn't show it, and she sure as hell doesn't accept it, but the truth is right there in front of her and she won't fuckin' bring herself to see it! Someday, the truth will out, and when it does, it's gonna crush her."

Jack opened his mouth to answer, but he closed it and looked up as the funeral began. Bonnie stood before the crowd, her hands folded in front of her and her gaze drifting from person to person. She looked lost for words for the speech she was about to give. She began hesitantly:

"We're all gathered here today to honor the three brave men we lost yesterday, all three of which we knew were some of the best and brightest workers here on this ranch. Anyone standin' before me can vouch for how good these men were, and to see their lives end in such tragedy is beyond the count of grief for all of us here. Joshua came to this ranch a starvin', unemployed orphan, but we helped him get back on his feet, and he was as happy as ever to be here on the ranch and become a part of our family. Bill was…well, Bill. He yammered and questioned to no end, as we all know, but he was the sharpest man ever to date. And Ira…oh, brave Ira…He came lookin' for work after his tribe was killed and found his place amongst us, despite the color of his skin. All three were great men, full of spirit and unanswered questions that, in the end, just faded away from knowledge. And so today, we lay these men to rest and honor them the best way we know how."

She stepped back to join her husband and father, allowing one of the ranch hands to step forward. He held a Bible in his hands, and though he wasn't dressed for the part, he began to read from the Holy Book.

"In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit…"

The instant the preacher began, Jack felt himself tuning out. God and religion seemed pointless to him now; with so much death and heartache that had occurred to him, and that he had caused, it was almost impossible for him to not become an atheist. As if Jesus and all that matters now, he thought with a sour frown on his lips. He stood beside Maddie with his hands intertwined neatly in front of him and his head bowed. How can these people believe in such things and read such a book? What's the point of it all if everything comes to a bitter end? Here I am, alive and well, standing before these three dead men who died horrible deaths and were as innocent as anyone could be, especially Joshua, and I wasn't even shot or hurt or nothin'. He shook his head. Why wasn't I killed? If God exists, then why didn't he have me die as a way of penance for all the bad shit I've done? It should've been me to die out there on the prairie instead of Bill, Joshua, and Ira.

So consumed in his grief and self-pity was Jack that he didn't realize the group of mourners had dispersed, and he was the last man standing before the graves. The coffins had been buried, the grave-markers driven into the ground, and the flowers laid on top of the mounds of dirt. He gasped when he felt a tear run down his cheek; he quickly wiped the side of his face with the back of his hand and cleared his throat.

Soft footsteps approached. Maddie came to stand by his left side. "You okay, Jack?" she asked quietly.

He sniffed and kept his gaze locked on the graves. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You didn't look too fine during the funeral. You looked as if you were lost in some faraway memory."

He kept silent, unable to respond as a hard lump formed in his throat. He tried to swallow it down, but it refused to budge.

The wind sighed all around them, making the leaves and branches sway. Somewhere, the birds had begun to sing. A horse trumpeted a loud neigh. Footfalls and small-talk drifted to their ears as the ranch hands continued with chores. All around them, time moved on. Nature had briefly halted for the funeral, but now life had to continue, and it did.

Jack glanced over at her. "Are you okay? You got shot up pretty bad yesterday."

She gave him a reassuring grin. "I've been shot many times over, Jack. It's nothing I've never been able to handle." She sighed greatly as she looked down at the graves before them. "They were such good men. I'm gonna miss them."

He couldn't bring himself to speak; there was nothing he could say at that moment, even if he wanted to.

"You know, I've seen men die before, and it's somethin' you get used to, bein' a bounty hunter and all, but… this just hurts, ya know?"

He nodded.

"But then again, I don't have to tell you that. You know death better than most."

He snorted. "Yeah, that ain't no shit. I've seen it, I've experienced it, and I've caused it."

To this, she had no response. She remained silent as they stood together and stared at the graves.

"It's all my fault."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "How do you figure?"

"I didn't have my guns with me, and you got shot, and they got gunned down like mangy coyotes. If I would've been armed, none of this would've happened. You would be just fine, and Ira, Bill, and Joshua would be alive right now."

To his surprise, she placed her right hand on his shoulder and said softly, "Hey, don't go beatin' yourself up for somethin' that wasn't your fault to begin with. None of us could've known when those cattle rustlers were gonna show up, neither did we know how the outcome of it all would be. You of all people should know that things happen out of nowhere, and most of the time, it ends rather poorly. Same thing happened yesterday. It just happened to end in a horrible way. Like you said, 'We can do nothing for them now'."

He shook his head, sickened at himself. "It's like death follows me everywhere I go. First it was my parents, then the fourteen people I gunned down, and now these three." He gestured to the graves with an upturned palm.

"Oh, please. It's not like you're one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. You aren't riding around on a pale horse and killing everything in sight. Come on, boy. You're blowin' this out of proportion."

He looked her in the eyes with absolute sincerity. "Am I? Is it some sort of coincidence that a lot of people have died around me? Isn't it strange how I've been here only a month and people are dropping like flies? I swear, it's like I'm cursed or something."

She grabbed his shoulder and shook him lightly. "Oh, enough of that. You're talkin' old wives' tales, that's all. This isn't all smoke and mirrors, Jack. You know that. This is life, and this is death. This is as real as it's ever gonna get."

"You're missing the point, Maddie!" he shouted, turning to face her fully. He waved his right hand to the three graves. "This is what happens when I'm around! I. Kill. People. You said so yourself I am a bastard outlaw who enjoys killing people. Well, I do, don't I? I might not have killed them directly, but I was there when they were gunned down. Joshua died in my arms, for Christ's sake! The look that he gave me is something I'll NEVER be able to get out of my head! And I watched Ira die right alongside with you, so don't pretend that's something you'll be able to shake off so easily! And Bill…well, a bullet to the head isn't something that's pretty to watch! I'll bet you any kind of money if I wasn't there yesterday, none of this would've happened!"

"And I can bet you any kind of money that you're becomin' hysterical and talkin' nonsense. Now stop this ruckus and calm down."

"But you're not listening to what I'm saying! If I wouldn't have never been there in th "

She seized him roughly by the shoulder with her right hand and declared, "Jack, just shut it! It's not your fault! It never was your fault, so don't waste your time taking the blame for something that you did not do!"

He looked off to the side out of shame and embarrassment.

"Jack, look at me," she commanded. When he didn't, she grabbed his face and turned his head, forcing him to look back at her. She looked him deep in the eyes, her own burning with absolution and compassion as she continued, "Listen to me. You're looking at this all wrong. Think back to when you brought me back at the ranch. That was a good deed; you acted honorably, as I mentioned before. If it weren't for you, I'd be buried right alongside these three men. People die every day, Jack. You of all people should know that fact. And you of all people should know how to handle death, or at least I thought you could. I guess I was wrong, because what you're doin' right now is actin' stupid. You're lettin' it get to you too much when you should be getting over it; you're over-thinkin' things when it should all stay simple. I know you can get over this, Marston; I know you can put on the tough guy mask and pretend like you're made of stone. Trust me, I can tell. So here's what I want you to do: you're gonna man up, get over it, and move on with life. You're gonna concentrate on your work, and honor their memory by living by their example and becoming a good role model for other people. Can you do that for me?"

He bowed his head. "Yes."

She nodded approvingly and released him. "That's a good man, Jack." She took a step back. "And you're right: you should've been given your guns, but we couldn't trust you…until now."

His expression morphed from confusion to shock as she bequeathed to him a rather shabby-looking Cattleman Revolver in a ragged holster from an inner pocket of her duster. He slowly took it from her. "Maddie, what…?"

She held up a hand to silence him before explaining, "Because of your new-found appreciation and respect for life, as demonstrated in these past two days, I have decided I can trust you with a gun. You know when to take a life, obviously, but now it is out of better judgment. Now, you aren't actin' out of spite and random blood-lust. Your act of bravery and good instinct is why I'm gonna let you use this revolver. As you continue to prove your loyalty and worthiness, I'll eventually upgrade you to your firearms, but until such time has come, you will be using this. See, even though we've lost some of our best men, and even though things have gone awry, you have come by way of sorrow to learn a lesson on mortality, and therefore have a new-found respect and appreciation for the life you live, as well as the lives of others around you." Her face grew grim as she warned, "However…I hope I never have to take this back from you, Jack. It would be a shame if I were to apprehend you again over the misuse of your weapon. And if you're going to be helping me out with bounties, you're gonna need to get some target practice in."

"What?"

She nodded. "That's right. You're gonna be helpin' me with bounties very soon, most likely in a few weeks." She nodded down at her leg and arm with a disappointed frown. "We'd be riding out within the next few days if it weren't for my unfortunate injuries, but give me at least a couple weeks and I'll be ready to go. Then we'll ride out and bag your first bounty."

"My first bounty?" he questioned as he strapped on his gun.

She nodded. "I called the sheriff in Armadillo and talked to him about this. He has agreed to let this happen on account that you bring in a bounty for every person you've killed. A life for a life. It's only fair."

"Oh…"

"Not to mention you owe Bonnie money. She bailed you out of jail, you know. You owe her a thousand dollars, plus the cost of clothes and food she's provided for you, as well as boarding your nag in the barn. You must pay her back, boy. You know this."

"In bounty money, no less?"

"Yes. You must pay for everything in this world one way or another. We must each of us bear our own misfortunes."

"Christ, do I know it," he chuckled to himself.

A long paused ensued between them as their gazes returned to the graves.

"They were gonna hang you, you know," Maddie said quietly, looking at him out of the corner of her eye as she unbraided her hair. "Right in front of every family you've ruined." She ran a quick hand through her long locks, combing lazily through it before pocketing the black ribbon that had bound it back.

"I know," he murmured back, bowing his head and letting the wind finger through his long hair. He chuckled darkly. "You're probably wishin' they would have: it would've saved you and Bonnie a hell of a lot of trouble. I am quite the worthless son of a bitch, you know."

"That isn't entirely true, Marston." She gave him a quirky smile. "You're doing my chores for me, plus it's nice to boss around a greenhorn and whip you into shape whenever necessary."

He rolled his eyes. "Why, thank you, Miss Maddie. You sure do know how to make a man tear up."

She snorted through her nose before she looked him over with a curious look. "Do you regret it?"

"Regret what?" he asked, locking eyes with her.

"Killing all those people a month back."

His gaze drifted down to the graves. His fingers fiddled with the bottom of the suit jacket; the wind seemed to intensify as it began to toss about his hair and the leaves above him. "Yes and no."

She blinked. "Why no?"

A troubled frown pulled down the corners of his mouth as he thought how best to word his explanation. "A part of me still thinks what I did was justified, you know, killing all those lawmen. But…"

She limped closer to him. "But?"

He lifted his gaze up to the graves and sighed greatly. "But I see these graves, and it makes me think of how frail life is, that all of this has been in vain…that it was all just a waste."

"And the woman? Do you regret killing her?"

"Absolutely," he said as he looked into her eyes. "She was innocent…and I killed her like it was nothing." He shrugged pitifully. "I guess I am my father's son."

Maddie half-turned, half-limped back around, facing the barn and the rest of the ranch, and nudged his arm with hers. "Come on, Marston. We've got work to do." As fast as she could muster, she limped forward, her black duster jerking about after her.

"Maddie, wait."

She stopped and looked back over her shoulder. "Yeah?"

"Does…Does Bonnie think it's my fault?"

She shrugged and shook her head in response. "I honestly don't know, Jack. A part of me thinks she blames herself for it…for sending all of us out there and not giving you a gun. You're not the only one fighting for the rights to be blamed for all this, even if it is all pointless banter."

He drunk in her words and mulled them over in his mind.

"You need to go talk to her."

"I don't think she'd want me to, Maddie. She already seems pretty upset."

"I know, but still…You should go talk to her. I've already thrown in my two cents with her, and she still feels bad. Maybe you could talk some sense into that strong-willed woman. I've tried, and even though I'm usually successful, this time has become the exception."

He nodded. "I'll try tonight after chores."

She smiled approvingly. "Good."

"But only if you're there with me."

"Fine. Now let's get you out of that damn monkey suit."

The living room was eerily quiet, save for the sound of strong alcohol being poured into shot glasses. Jack sat on the couch watching the brownish-gold liquid spill into the three glasses sitting in a row on the coffee table before him. He hadn't given alcohol much thought since he and Maddie walked into the house after chores to confide in and alongside Bonnie. But now, as he looked at the whiskey gleaming brightly before him, drinking didn't sound like that bad of an idea.

Why not? he thought somberly. All we can do now is drink to their memory. He took up the shot glass and threw it back without a sputter at the potency of the drink. It burned pleasantly as it splashed down his throat.

Beside him, Maddie sat staring despondently at her shot as well, her elbows resting heavily on her knees and her hair falling down her back and shoulders like a curtain of sorrow. She had tugged her hat down so low all Jack could see of her face was her nose, pursed lips, and small, round chin. Mechanically, she reached out and took the shot glass in between her index finger and thumb. She threw it back like it was nothing more than water. Wearily, she banged the glass back down on the table and leaned back in the couch with a mournful sigh.

Across from him and Maddie, Bonnie flinched and looked up at her silent companion. "Maddie, don't go dentin' my coffee table. Otherwise, I'll have you make me a new one." Like her companions did before her, she hoisted up her shot glass and downed it without a cough.

Maddie nodded ever so slightly. It was barely a movement of recognition on her part; she didn't look to be in a listening mood, much less be completely there when spoken to.

Bonnie refilled the glasses before setting the bottle back down on the coffee table. "It's too bad Daddy turned in early tonight. He would've had a drink or two with us."

"It's a good thing that Drew's in bed, Bonnie," Maddie spoke up, sitting up on the couch as she reached for her glass. She picked it up and added, "This day has been especially hard on him. He hired all three of those men himself, and he's watched them grow like you and I have on the ranch. Sometime soon, we should all go to bed as well. Lord knows we need it."

Jack and Bonnie shared accepting nods and glances. A somber silence grew between the trio; they kept themselves busy by taking shots and staring off into space in different directions.

"So Nathaniel went back to Blackwater, I suppose?" Maddie asked suddenly, her voice growing cold. She looked at Bonnie with a blank expression and waited for her assumptions to be proven true.

To her and Jack's surprise, Bonnie shook her head and replied softly, "No, he's asleep upstairs. He's agreed to stay with me for a couple more days. He understands it's going to be a tough time for me and for all of us here on the ranch."

Maddie gave a bemused snort as she looked at the empty glass in her hands. "I'm shocked that he's stayin' for such a long time. Usually, he's in such a hurry to head back to that bustlin' town." She flicked her gaze up to watch Bonnie closely, waiting for any signs of reaction.

"Nathaniel isn't the devil incarnate, Maddie," Bonnie said, her blonde eyebrows narrowing over her puffy eyes. She had been crying earlier but hadn't admitted to it. "He's a better husband than you care to acknowledge or give credit for."

Maddie didn't answer, though it was apparent she wanted to say something back. She sat the shot glass down on the table and crossed her right leg over her left.

"Well, it's good that he's stayin' with you," Jack said. He felt the need to say something, especially after how quickly the atmosphere changed between the women. "A husband needs to be with his wife, especially in times such as this."

Maddie fidgeted in her seat and bit down on her lip. She sniffed loudly and looked off to the side.

"Besides, it's good that everyone will be together during all this."

"And I am grateful for that," Bonnie replied. She picked up the bottle of whiskey and filled Maddie's glass, as well as her own. "Jack, do you…?" She paused, flicking her gaze up at him before shrugging and finishing with a scoff, "You're a Marston. Never mind." As she poured him a shot, Jack chortled and nodded in amused compliance.

As the three took another round and sat in the resigned reticence, the night waxed and waned outside; the cries and wails of nocturnal creatures became the ambiance of the dark world; the silvery moon and never-ending sheet of stars above were like night lights. All was still: even the wind had died down to no more than a whisper, an echo of what it was before during the day. A chill began to settle over the land. Autumn was fast approaching, and it was making its presence known to all that night.

The occasional sniff and despairing sigh interrupted the painful silence in the house; Jack couldn't help but look the two women over with an aching heart and a helpless frown. Tears welled in Bonnie's blue eyes, her lower lip trembled, and she continued to run her hands over her face. Bags pulled down at her face from under her eyes. Maddie slouched heavily on the couch, her hat and hair still obscuring most her face from his sight. Occasionally, her lip would tremble. She played it off by clearing her throat.

She stood up abruptly, bringing herself up using only her left leg. She fished out a cigar and matches from one of the inner pockets of her duster.

"Maddie?" Bonnie spoke up, her voice tight with sadness. She wiped tears away with her hand as she looked up at her friend. "What are you…?"

"I'm gonna go have a smoke."

"You want some company?" Jack asked hesitantly. He leaned forward in his seat, ready to stand by her side the instant she consented.

She shook her head. "No, I think I'll sit outside by myself for a while, if you don't mind."

Disappointment ebbed through his heart; however, he nodded and said despondently, "Well, alright, then." He sat back in the couch and watched her limp across the room.

Her dark hair swayed to a stand-still as she paused and leaned heavily against the threshold. She sighed heavily and pinched the base of her nose to stop the tears from flowing. Her shoulders fell from the force of her exhale. A miniscule sob escaped her; she cleared her throat loudly as she limped out onto the porch. The moonlight silhouetted her in a dreary light as she made her way over to the rocking chair. Her boots resounded out into the quiet night like gunshots; her spurs clinked with every limping step. She grabbed the chair with both hands to steady herself as she turned her body halfway around. The chair creaked as she sat down. She inhaled sharply through clenched teeth when she accidentally put weight on her injured leg; she had haphazardly used it to steady herself into the chair…but with repercussions. She panted at the flare, but once she was settled and calm, she breathed slowly before lighting her cigar and taking a few soothing puffs. The bluish-grey smoke swirled and danced in the air around her before eventually dissipating.

Jack watched her intently, fascinated by her emotional strength. But she has got to be feelin' miserable at least, he thought. There's no way she's that strong…or is she? Hell, she's the toughest woman I've ever met, but even the strongest people have weak points. To prove himself right, he concentrated on what little of her face he could see. Her lips quivered as she opened them to place the cigar back into her mouth. She seemed desperate to keep herself busy. When she released the smoke, it streamed out in front of her as she exhaled harshly.

If only I could make you feel better, he thought with a small sigh and a shake of his head. He tore his eyes away from her long enough to glance back at Bonnie. He motioned to Maddie with a nod and whispered, "Will she be okay?"

Bonnie nodded, once again wiping her eyes. She sniffled loudly before answering, "She's tougher than anyone I know. I don't really remember ever seeing her cry, but if I ever did, I'm pretty sure it was next to nothing."

He looked from Maddie to Bonnie and back. "Has she always been so tough?"

She nodded as she stood up and walked over to him. She sat down beside him on the couch and peered out at Maddie as well. "For as long as I've known her, yeah, she has been. She's been through a lot." She shook her head with pity. "The poor girl."

"She sort of told me yesterday. What happened to her really?" He turned his attention to the older woman; he looked into her blue eyes and waited for an honest answer.

"I shouldn't be the one to tell you, Jack. It's not my place, and it certainly isn't my story."

"She hasn't told me everything…just that her ma's dead and she hates her pa."

She beckoned him with a nod over to Maddie and breathed, "Go talk to her in about five minutes. Maybe she'll be in a talking mood by then. Besides, I'm sure she'll want to hear your story as well. You'll come to realize just how much you and her are alike. It could shock you, Jack."

He stared off to the side, not knowing what to say.

Bonnie looked back at her friend with a sudden fondness. A soft smile graced her lips as she said, "She's helped me so much on my ranch; she's such a good woman and my best friend. Hell, she might as well be my daughter, and to tell you the truth, I'd gladly adopt her."

"You already have, Bonnie," Jack chuckled back. "Hell, you're like an aunt to me. Don't forget that you're a good woman, too. That's somethin' that'll never change."

She patted his back and gave him an appreciative smirk. "Thank you, Jack. You can be a sweetheart when you want to be."

Jack lowered his eyes to the floor, bowing his head and intertwining his fingers between his knees. He felt a sudden confession forcing its way up his throat, and he didn't know how best to word it or how to handle it. "I…I know I haven't been the best man to work with. I haven't been treating you or Maddie the best this past month, but…I'll tell you right now that's gonna change. You two have certainly earned my respect, so it's only fair that I give it back. Fair is fair."

She nodded. "Fair is fair," she repeated. She wrapped an arm over his shoulders and drew him into a slight hug. "Thank you for understanding, Jack. You might not realize it or acknowledge it, but you've grown so much in so little time. Your parents would be very proud of you. I know I am." She squeezed his shoulders and shook him in a friendly manner.

He beamed up at her. "Thanks, Bonnie."

The red glow of Maddie's cigar caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, and he turned his head and stared at her silhouette. White smoke drifted and swarmed mystifyingly around her, catching the moonlight brilliantly and encasing her in a haunting glow. The cherry of the cigar burned brightly in the night, a small, fiery beacon of life in the darkness.

"She reminds me of Ma so much," he confessed in a whisper. "I…I miss her…And Pa, too."

Tears streamed down Bonnie's cheeks as she tightened her embrace around him. "I miss them, too, Jack. They were good people."

He nodded in reply, not trusting his voice for fear of it cracking. He bit down on his lip as he looked back at Maddie.

Bonnie followed his gaze and sniffed. "She's just as feisty as your mama was, that's for sure. She's like your pa, too: she's just as deadly with a gun and just as good a rider as he was. And she's one hell of a hard worker."

"She's honorable like he was," Jack added, his voice a low tremor. He swallowed hard, trying to rid himself of the lump in his throat.

"Yes, she is. That's why you and her get along so well. Like I said before, you two are a lot alike."

"I suppose so, Bonnie." He leaned forward and grabbed the bottle and refilled his glass. He threw back the shot hastily, sighing afterwards and staring at the empty glass with disdain. He spun it around in his hands, thinking on their conversation and marveling at its purity and deepness.

He glanced back up at Maddie and watched her for a time. She had moved her hair to the other side, drawing it over to her right shoulder and draping it down her arm like a half-cloak. Her eyebrows were faintly narrowed over her squinting brown eyes that were glossed over in recollection. Slowly, tears began to flood her eyes.

Jack set the shot glass down on the table and rose to his feet, his eyes never drifting from Maddie. "I'm gonna go have a smoke, too," he said, even though he had no cigarettes on his person.

Bonnie stood as well, wiping her face yet again. "Good luck, Jack. I think I'm gonna turn in for the night. It's been a long day." She pulled him into a tight hug, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face into his shoulder.

Jack returned the hug, patting her back in reassurance. "Good night, Bonnie. Get some sleep."

"You, too, Jack. Good night."

They released each other after a lingering moment. Jack watched her wearily climb the stairs before disappearing around the corner. He picked up the bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses and headed outside to join Maddie on the porch.

His boots thumped unbearably loud as he stepped out onto the porch; the front door creaked as loud and eerily as a screech owl's call. Wincing at the overbearing noises, he came to stand beside her, awkwardly holding the bottle in one hand and the shot glasses in the other. Clearing his throat, he looked down at her and asked softly, "Need a shot?"

She blinked away her tears and uttered, "Sure." She frowned at the frailty of her response, so she cleared her throat and adjusted herself in her seat. She took a hearty puff of her cigar and let out the smoke slowly.

Jack sat the shot glasses on the porch railing and poured the alcohol into them. He handed her a glass; she took it from him and threw it back hastily. He had to laugh at this as he raised his glass and said, "Cheers," before taking his shot. His amusement turned to shock when she beckoned for the bottle. Daftly, he gave it to her, only to be amazed when she lifted the bottle to her lips and took several large gulps. She paused to breathe before lifting the bottle once more.

"Wait a minute, ya alcoholic," he joked as he took it away from her. "Let me have some at least." Disregarding his shot glass as well, he took a few drinks from the bottle. He gazed down at his somber companion with concern and stepped closer to her. "You feelin' any better?"

She shook her head. "No," she breathed, her voice shaking. "But then again, when have I ever felt better?"

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing," she said sharply, her demeanor changing instantly to anger. Her hand shot out and yanked the whiskey bottle out of his grasp faster than Jack could react; she took a drink before he could comprehend. "I knew those men well. They were such good men, all hard workers, and very reliable." She shook her head before drinking more of the potent alcohol. She held the bottle out to Jack as she murmured, "I'm gonna miss them."

"I think we all will, Maddie," he responded as he accepted the whiskey from her. He took a swig and watched her intently out of the corner of his eye.

"It's always the good people that die the most horrible deaths, that live the shortest lives," she hissed with an angry shake of her head. "It's all fuckin' bullshit, Jack."

Jack reached around her back and affectionately rested a hand on her right shoulder. "I know, Maddie. It's unfair, and it hurts. Trust me, I know how life is."

She glanced down at his hand with a soft grin before she looked back out at the plains with a sour frown. She flicked the stem of ash off the end of her cigar with a tap of her middle finger before hastily bringing the cigar to her mouth and taking several refreshing puffs. She let the smoke fly out of her mouth as she exhaled bitterly. "It's like their lives meant nothing at all, to be smote so easily from this world in a split second."

Jack squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "Maddie, don't say that. Their lives did matter."

Maddie stole the bottle from him again and lifted it to her lips.

"Jesus, Maddie!" He snatched it from her and held it beyond her reach. "That's quite enough! You're gonna drink yourself sick."

Her eyes seared his as she hissed, "I'll do whatever I fuckin' please, even if it means drinking myself to ruin." She stood up using only her left leg and stood close to him as she placed her hand back onto the bottle, her hand overlapping Jack's.

Despite the sudden flip he felt his heart perform, Jack returned the glare and held it further away from her. "Don't be a fool now, Maddie. You won't do that to yourself. I'm even gonna make sure of it."

"Give me that bottle, damn it!"

"What the hell's it gonna do for ya?" he retorted with a disappointed scowl. "You're gettin' a little out of hand here. Just sit back down and relax. Trust me, drinkin' yourself till you puke or black out doesn't help you get over things like this. It's not worth it."

She looked indecisively at the bottle, then back at him, her eyebrows furrowing and a contemplative frown forming across her lips. After a moment, she bowed her head and took her hand off his and the bottle he held. She sat back into the chair with a sigh and took a reflective puff off her cigar as she looked back out at the plains. "You're right, Jack," she confessed, more to herself than to him as her eyes clouded over in reminiscence. She propped her right elbow up on the armrest, holding the cigar aloft. She stared off into the darkness without seeing what was in front of her. "I won't go drinkin' myself to oblivion. I'm better than that. I won't become a drunk like my father."

Jack retrieved Maddie's shot glass and set aside the empty glasses further down the railing before he hopped up and sat on the railing. He sat facing her, watching her intently as she talked in a hushed voice. Without moving his gaze from her, he lifted the bottle to his lips and took another sip before asking, "So…why was he a drunkard?"

She refused to look at him as she replied, "When my mother died, he turned to drink. It was his whole world after she passed away, and it sure as hell exacerbated both his and my own situation. Our grief alone was crippling, and he had to go and make it worse." She glanced up at the bottle in his hands. "Drink the rest of that, Jack. I'll have nothin' more to do with that sin in a bottle."

"Don't mind if I do," he chuckled before taking another hearty gulp. He finally began to feel a slight buzz, after drinking about half of it. He caught her watching him; he brought the bottle down and rested it on his lap. "What?"

"I'm surprised that you know how to handle your liquor, princess. You very experienced in alcohol?"

Much to his chagrin, he nodded. "Right after Pa died, I found his stash in the house. It was hidden up in the attic; I suppose it was his emergency bourbon or somethin' of the sort. I was curious and lookin' for some sort of way to…well, cope, I guess…So I got to drinkin' it, and the next thing I know, Ma's found me up there drunker than a skunk, and she's furious at me and screamin' all sorts of obscenities. I was sixteen at the time, and even though I don't remember much of what she said to me, I'll never forget how furious she was. Needless to say, I got quite the beating for that foolishness." He paused to take another drink. "And when she died about three or so months back, I indulged in it once again." He locked gazes with her. "I've drunk myself 'til I blacked out, Maddie. It is the worst feeling waking up hung-over like that. I wouldn't wish it on anyone, especially you. Please don't do that to yourself. Ever."

"I won't, Jack. I'm done drinking for the night...," she looked off to the side, "…for a while, actually."

"Good," he said before downing the rest of the whiskey and setting the empty bottle down beside the shot glasses.

"I forgot to tell you, Jack," Maddie piped up as she met eyes with him. "You're one hell of a fine shooter. You took down the rest of those cattle rustlers in a heartbeat. Where'd you learn how to shoot?"

Jack grinned proudly down at her. "My pa. Well…I picked up on it after a while of him trying to show me. I was a hot-headed little shit back then; I didn't want him to show me. But he was persistent, and he showed me a thing or two. And after he passed away, I did nothin' but practice on old whiskey bottles and wolves that tried getting' to the cattle. When I wasn't doin' chores or takin' care of Ma, I was shootin'. But then Ma got sick, and she quickly wasted away…My gunmanship got even better after she died."

Pity enveloped Maddie's brown eyes. "I'm sorry, Jack."

He fiddled with a slight tear in the sleeve of his shirt he must've snagged it on barbed wire or something sharp earlier that day. "Where'd you learn to shoot so well?"

"Pa taught me how to handle a gun at an early age. If I remember right, I was around ten when he gave me a revolver. He just showed me one day, and for some reason, it just clicked with me." She chuckled as she added, "I guess I was born to be a gunslinger."

"You wanna shoot with me some time?" Jack asked.

Her eyes lit up for the first time that day. Even in the cloaking darkness, they glowed with joy. "Sure. I don't see why not. After all, we're gonna go bag your first bounty soon. You're gonna need all the practice you can get to prepare for it. I'm sure you're a little rusty and could use some pointers from me, anyways." She winked slyly at him as she puffed on her diminishing cigar.

He tipped back his head as he guffawed. "Ha! That's a good joke, Maddie. Are you so sure of yourself, little miss gunslinger? 'Cause if you don't mind me sayin', I bet it'll be you who will be needin' the pointers, not me!"

"Fat chance at that," she snorted back as she blew the smoke at him. "I'll blow you out of the water. You can bet on that, princess." An amused grin grew on her lips. A flame of determination flickered in her eyes as she challenged, "Tomorrow, we'll see who the better gunslinger is. What say you to that, boy?"

"You're on," he said with an excited smirk.

"Just do me a favor: don't become depressed tomorrow when you lose."

"Are you kiddin' me? You'll be in tears after I show you up. If anything, you'll be needin' more practice after I show you how it's done, little girl."

Her jaw dropped open in mock surprise. "That's pretty big talk comin' from a scrawny piece of straw like yourself!" She nodded down to the revolver hanging at his side. "Do you even know how to load that thing, much less shoot it?"

"Well, if you're so damn curious as to how it works, I'll show you how to do all that tomorrow."

She grinned and bowed her head in approval. "Well played, princess. I see you're back in the game."

They shared a chuckle and looked each other over in unspoken gratitude, happy to have brightened the other up despite the horrid events that had happened in the past two days. The pair studied each other briefly, but soon, their faces grew red and they looked away, though a trace of a smile still lingered on their lips.

Abruptly, Maddie dropped the stubby cigar onto the porch and ground it out with her left boot. She rose up out of the chair, her left leg shaking slightly from having to carry all her weight on it for the past two days. A yawn escaped her, and she ran a hand over her face. "Well," she said, "I'm gonna turn in for the night. You should too, Jack."

Jack hopped off the porch railing with a sigh. He shook his head hopelessly. "I'm not sure I'll be able to sleep well tonight, Maddie. I hardly slept last night, and I doubt that'll change."

She limped closer to him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You have to try. It won't be easy for me, either, but we all need rest after everything that's happened."

He looked her in the eyes and asked tenderly, "Are you gonna be okay?"

She blinked, drew back a step, and withdrew her hand off his shoulder. "I'll be fine. I've endured far worse things than losin' fellow co-workers and friends. Don't worry about my well-being. Be more concerned with yours, Marston. Tomorrow, we start anew. To mourn and stay in the past would dishonor the men we've lost. We'll honor them by livin' good lives and leadin' good examples to others. They would want us to move on, after all."

Jack stood staring after her as she turned and limped toward the front door. Only when she opened the door did he snap out of his wonder and ask, "Um…Maddie? What are you doing?"

"What do you mean 'what are you doing'? I'm headin' to bed."

He blinked. "But…aren't you gonna take me back to my cell?"

An adoring twinkle entered her eyes. "What, you want me to hold your hand and lead you back over there? I'm pretty sure you're a big boy now and can handle that yourself. Or am I wrong?"

His cheeks flushed a deep crimson. He glanced down at the porch, trying to retain what little dignity he had left. "That's not what I meant. You always lock me back in my cell at night."

She laughed, her voice ringing like melodious bells. "I think you've earned your spurs by now, so I'm not gonna go through the trouble of escortin' you to your little prison every night. Besides, someone's waitin' for you anyway. He'll be sure to lock you up, if that comforts you."

"Oh."

"Consider this another reward, Marston." She tipped her hat to him and smiled. "Good night."

He became breathless by her generosity and smile. "Good night," he murmured. He watched her disappear around the door, and even after she closed it and flicked the lights off in the living room, he stood staring after her, bewildered. It was only when the night's chill had settled into his bones did he walk to the sheriff's office and turn in.