Author's Note: This story will follow the events of the game pretty closely up until a certain point. Because of this, much of the dialogue between John and Bonnie in the following couple chapters is borrowed heavily from the game itself.

Once again, I don't own anything.

Thank you to the guest reviewers for their kind words. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Bonnie hated visits to her brother. New York was supposedly more civilized than Armadillo. She felt like every person she encountered in the place was as slippery as a snake, with their fake smiles and ulterior motives. And her brother fit right in with the place, his smile as cold as the limp handshake he greeted her with. He could care less about her, she knew. But he was her father's lawyer, handling his entire estate. Bonnie didn't agree with her father's decision, but Drew still loved his son despite their differences in outlook. And he trusted him marginally more than he did any of the other lawyers he'd ever met.

The visit left a sour taste in her mouth and she was thankful to start the final leg of her journey and get on the train back to Armadillo. She sat by the window, thinking she might take a nap on the way back home. The idea was nixed when a man sat beside her. He seemed friendly enough, but Bonnie was not in the mood to talk. The conversations surrounding her were disturbing her piece of mind, angering her with how so small minded people were. Finally, she excused herself from the man's side and moved closer to the front of the compartment, hoping to gain peace from the two old woman's grating voices. She found she could still hear them perfectly fine, but at least she was free to be alone in her own thoughts without interruption.

When she left the train, Amos was waiting for her with their wagon. She smiled happily, inordinately pleased to see the stoic ranch hand. He seemed puzzled at her enthusiasm, arching a brow in question.

"I hate New York and Blackwater is no better," she explained. "You don't know how good it is to be home." Amos nodded, but his sharp eyes were directed behind her.

She glanced towards the saloon, seeing the retreating figure of a man from the train. She'd noticed when passing his seat that he was a handsome man, if a little rough around the edges. Amos' eyes were narrowed in suspicion.

"Do you know him, Amos?"

Amos shook his head. "No, miss, but I hope I never do. Seems like an untrustworthy sort of fellow."

Bonnie laughed at his easy judgment. "Amos, you don't even know the man. For all you know, he's a lawyer playing dress-up."

"Not with those scars he ain't," Amos argued. "And you see the way he held his hand near his gun? A gunslinger no doubt." Amos nodded his head once vehemently and turned to the wagon, dismissing the man.

Bonnie smiled in amusement but her interest was piqued. Gunslinger or not (the idea was ludicrous, there were no longer any true gunslingers in the west), Amos had pointed the man out as worthy of concern. He was an observant man, his judgment usually close to spot on. It was why he was the lead ranch hand, her father trusting him with much of the responsibilities he or Bonnie couldn't handle on their own. She glanced after the man, wondering where he was going.

If Bonnie had one major fault, it was curiosity. The question of the man's purpose in Armadillo settled in her mind and niggled at her through their errands in Armadillo. Bonnie could have easily hired a coach back to the ranch but they needed supplies so Amos had been hitting two birds with one stone. They stopped at the gunsmith, looking for any improvements in weapons. Afterward, it was to the general store for a few items the ranch's store did not carry.

Bonnie could see that Amos was eyeing the saloon with longing and took the opportunity presented.

"Amos, I need to head to the seamstress for some feminine items I ordered. Why don't you head to the saloon and have a drink? I'll return to pick you up in half an hour."

At the mention of 'feminine items' Amos was off to the saloon with a red face. Bonnie snickered, feeling no regret at embarrassing the poor man. Amos was usually quiet and had little to say but when you got a drink or two in him he couldn't seem to help but repeat the gossip he heard in the saloons. Bonnie was counting on it. She didn't really need anything from the seamstress, hating the impractical fashions of the day and choosing to stitch her own clothing, but she stopped by anyway. The woman who ran the place looked down her nose at Bonnie the entire time she browsed idly. Bonnie left, feeling obligated to purchase some fabric she liked and making certain it was wrapped up securely so Amos wouldn't be able to see.

Amos was waiting for her outside, always considerate about the fact that no respectable woman would be seen in a saloon. He was smiling vacantly at something in the distance, swaying slightly from side to side as he stood. Bonnie grinned at the sure sign that he'd had more than one drink. Amos was a lightweight and it only took three drinks for him to become the chattiest man in Armadillo.

Bonnie inquired about the news around town idly, as she did any time he took a trip to the saloon. She looked towards the saloon but saw no sign of the man from the train. She listened with half an ear to Amos on the trip home, wondering where the man had gone. Amos talked about more than one thing, but didn't mention anything about the stranger until they were nearing the ranch.

"Man's name is John Marston, I hear."

Bonnie sat straighter in her seat. "What man?"

Amos chuckled, suddenly appearing less drunk than he had in town. "I'm no fool, Miss MacFarlane. Knew you had no package to pick up. You went just last week. But the drink after a long day was a nice thought."

Bonnie's cheeks tinged red but she was stubborn and refused to be embarrassed. "Where's he from?" she asked.

Amos' expression darkened. "Don't rightly know. Nothing much but rumors. Ol' Jake was hired to be his guide to Fort Mercer was what's been said. Like I thought, not a man to be trusted if he's meeting up with the Williamson gang."

Bonnie's brow furrowed. Bill Williamson was more than just a bad sort, he was the scourge itself, his gang attacking ranches with no warning. What would a man want to see him for? Seemed like Amos was right about the man after all.

"Who hired Jake?"

Amos shrugged, getting down from the wagon as Bonnie stopped near the barn. "Don't know, but we should stay away whatever the case."

Bonnie nodded reluctantly, thanking Amos as she headed up to the house. Maybe he was bad news, but the man intrigued her. And the question of his connection to Bill Williamson would nag at her until it was solved.

The next morning she decided she needed to know more about the man John Marston, convincing herself that it was so she could be more informed about the dangers he presented. She asked Amos to accompany her to Armadillo to run an errand. Her father had been confused with her need to return to town when she'd just visited it the day before. Amos had partly understood her intentions and agreed readily enough. Bonnie hoped that her father would let the matter lie, which he did with a shake of his head and a wave of his hand to get going.

Bonnie drove the wagon, a tight ball of anxiety settling in the pit of her stomach at what she was about to do. Fort Mercer was a dangerous place, even the area surrounding it was avoided at all costs. Amos was silent the entire ride, but when he understood where she was bringing them, he immediately tried to take the reins from her hand. She shot a glare at him, her chin lifting stubbornly. He shook his head, but he clutched the shotgun he held even tighter. She never meant to get so close, but something compelled her to drive down the road passing Fort Mercer directly.

The sight of the man's body crumpled on the side of the road made her gasp. She slowed the wagon and jumped to the ground before it had come to a full stop. She approached him with tears in her eyes. No one deserved this, a grave in the open air at the side of a road. She could bury him at least. She could do that much for this stranger.

"Help me with him, Amos."

Amos glanced towards Fort Mercer with nervous eyes. "Come on miss. There's nothing we can do for him, he's dead."

As Amos spoke, John Marston groaned, the noise filled with pain.

"He's alive Amos!"

Amos shook his head, urging her to get back on the wagon. "Come on, ma'am. He's a criminal."

Bonnie scowled at Amos. "So what if he is? We can't just leave him here to die. The least we can do is bring him to the doctor's"

Amos agreed reluctantly, insisting on lifting the man by himself and setting him on the back of the wagon. Bonnie drove to Armadillo without care for speed. She winced at every groan from the man or heavy jolt from the wagon but the sooner she reached Armadillo the better.

The doctor had taken one look at the man Amos carried in and shook his head in resignation. "I can fix him up but it'll cost you Miss MacFarlane."

"Whatever the cost, I'll be happy to pay."

It was a quick procedure despite Bonnie's anxiety. The doctor pulled the bullet from his side with a low whistle, commenting that the man was lucky with the location. He received a few stitches and his side was bandaged tightly so it wouldn't bleed too much. The doctor offered to keep the man on a bed in his office but Bonnie insisted on bringing him home to the ranch. She gave the excuse that the man needed to repay her so she would keep him close until he did. The doctor accepted her explanation with a shrug, relieved that the problem was out of his hands. Amos didn't say a word on the way back to the ranch, placing the man in one of the spare cabins at her direction.

Before he left to attend to his duties he commented, "Best let your father know."

Bonnie was left alone with John Marston, Amos satisfied that he was well and truly out. She watched him for a bit, still compelled to know more about him. When the sun started to set she finally left back to the house. Her father was sitting on a rickety chair on the porch.

"'Bout time you came to the house. Where have you been, Bonnie?"

Bonnie sighed. "Saved a man from the side of the road. Brought him to Armadillo to see the doctor. I was just making sure he was resting."

Drew MacFarlane frowned. "And who paid for the doctor's bill?"

"We did." Bonnie dropped her eyes from her father's stern gaze. "I couldn't just leave him to die."

Drew sighed. "No you couldn't, not my girl. Doctor's are expensive Bonnie. Make sure that man pays it off."

"Thank you, Daddy." She could see that he was still suspicious, but he'd relented for now. Her father was surprisingly lenient with her, generally giving her free reign with her actions. She loved him for it all the more.

John Marston remained unconscious for two more days. She kept an eye on him, only neglecting her responsibilities slightly, but Amos covered for her. He had a fever that finally abated on the second night.

She returned the third morning. opening the door and seeing that he was awake with relief. "Well, you're alive." she said nonchalantly, forcing herself to act as she normally would.

"So it would seem," he said raising his hands to look at them.

"How do you feel?"

"I don't know the polite word for it," he responded carefully.

Bonnie wanted to smile at that. She rested her hand on her hip. "I do. 'Stupid' is the word we use around here." She stared at him, needing to understand his actions. "What were you doing?"

"I was..." he started to sit up, pausing as the pain in his ribs increased and groaning. "I was doing something stupid." he agreed.

"You'll be fine. Doctor said you'll live. He got the bullet out a couple days ago." she paused. "It cost us fifteen dollars." She didn't mean to sound like she expected it back, but her father had been adamant.

He looked towards her with an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry, madam. You should have left me to die."

Bonnie frowned in dismay. Was that his purpose? "Did you want to die? Is that why you went straight to Fort Mercer and picked a fight with the worst bandit in the county? Because you had a death wish? Mr...err...?" She wasn't about to let on that she knew his name, or that she'd been searching for him.

"Mr. Marston," he said as he stood up to greet her properly. "John Marston."

Bonnie stepped forward as he sat back down, making it clear with her introduction that she was unattached. "Bonnie MacFarlane. Miss Bonnie MacFarlane."

John rested his palms on his knees. "You may be right, Miss MacFarlane. I don't know." he sounded almost defeated as he admitted it.

"Hmm." Bonnie wasn't quite sure if that was right. "So what were you doing?"

"Was trying to give Mr. Williamson a chance, for old time's sake." He looked away as he spoke, certain of her censure.

Bonnie was slightly incredulous. "You know Bill Williamson?"

"Knew him, a long time ago."

Bonnie's curiosity was piqued even more. "Well, what was he like?"

"Dumb," he deadpanned, standing once again to his feet.

Bonnie smirked. "Just like you."

"Thank you miss." John reached to tip the brim of his hat, looking at his empty fingers in confusion. "Have you seen my hat?"

"I have." Bonnie asserted and pointed to the table she'd placed it on when he arrived. She crossed her arms as he walked to the table. "And, uh, what will you do now?"

John placed his hat back on his head and strode back towards her. "And now I'm going to take my time and go after him the right way."

Bonnie felt a moment of exasperation. "Well that sounds like fun, Mr. Marston. Quite heroic," she added with a hint of sarcasm. "Just like in those penny dreadfuls my brothers liked to read." She raised her hands up, "If you'll excuse me, I have a ranch to run." Bonnie walked a step away before pausing and turning back. "If you're feeling better, why not help me patrol the perimeter." Her tone made it obvious that it was more an order than a suggestion. "You can earn back the money we spent on your doctor's bill."

She watched as he put his gun belt back on, nodding his head once in agreement. "Of course, Miss MacFarlane. And thank you...for saving my life."

Bonnie's head tilted slightly as she regarded him. "Next time, Mr. Marston. I strongly recommend you try not to lose it quite so earnestly." She turned and walked away, hearing his voice behind her.

"I'll bear that in mind."

Thanks for reading!