I know the summary says major plot changes. And those are coming, but for the moment I'll be following the missions surrounding Bonnie and John almost to the letter. Just a heads up!
I really like the dialogue in the game between Bonnie and John so I've kept it almost word for word in this chapter. Everything recognizable does not belong to me. This happens during the missions "Obstacles in our Path" and "This is Armadillo, USA" with a John/Bonnie take on them.
John was eager to help around the ranch the next couple of nights, seeing very little of Bonnie MacFarlane. He was introduced to the foreman and spent his nights with a shaggy dog that sniffed out trouble. There wasn't much for him to really concern himself with. A few men fighting, a horse or two stolen which he returned. Once a man had been dragging a woman down the road and John had been the closest to killing a man since he'd arrived at MacFarlane's ranch. He ended up hogtying the bastard and dropping him none too gently at the foreman's office to receive his punishment.
A few nights of very little sleep and John found he was restless to move on from the nightwatch job, at least for awhile. He needed to find Bill Williamson, and while he truly enjoyed helping out the woman who'd saved his life, he needed to do more.
The next morning John decided on a visit to Bonnie. He'd seen her in passing, a nod or wave to say hello across the yard. But John had been pushing himself more than he should in his attempt to repay his debt. As it was, he'd been exhausted the last couple of days, sleeping intermittently throughout the day and patrolling the ranch at night. His side still bothered him, more a dull ache than the sharp pain of the day he awoke but it was manageable. He'd had far worse injuries.
He approached the house, wondering if she was still inside or if she'd already left on some errand for the ranch. He meant to knock on the door, but somehow he was opening it before realizing, hoping that he didn't offend her by just barging into her home.
Bonnie was walking up the steps to the second floor and turned quickly at his entrance, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him. "Oh, Mr. Marston. How are ya doing today?"
John closed the door and turned back towards her. "I'm well, Miss MacFarlane. Thank you. How are you?"
"Well, I'm fine, thank you." Bonnie gestured at his torso. "So, ah, how are your ribs?"
John waved away her concern. "Fine. A little sore, but apart from a couple extra scars it'll be as nothing happened."
"Good" Bonnie said with relief. "Come in."As John walked towards her, she tilted her head in sudden curiosity. "You know, You never did tell me how you met that Bill Williamson, or what you wanted from him."
John nodded once. "No miss, I did not."
"Well, why not? If you don't mind me asking." she pressed.
"I certainly don't mind you asking, if you don't mind me not telling." John circled around her. "See, it's a complicated and somewhat pathetic tale and by telling you, not only would I be putting your life in danger but also threatening the lives of someone I hold very dear."
Bonnie was a little disappointed as she turned away. "I apologize if I seemed to be prying."
"And I apologize for my reticence." John said with some regret. "I hope you believe me when I say that it is simply out of respect for you."
Bonnie still felt a little bitter by his deflections and her tone might have been a little sarcastic as she circled him in turn, gesturing with her hands to make her point. "Of course, Mr. Marston. I understand that a city dweller, such as yourself, likes to have some exotic secrets so us country folk are impressed."
John let out a snort of disbelief at the turn in her mood. "I'm no city man, miss."
"Yeah, but I saw you get on the train at Blackwater." Bonnie accused. "You with those gentleman in bowler hats."
John shook his head in denial. "I'm still no city man."
Bonnie chose to let the matter drop, shoving her disappointment at his secretive nature away. "But I bet you can't ride, Mr. Marston."
John's expression relaxed minimally, a smile playing around the corner of his mouth. "I hate to take money from a lady, miss."
Bonnie laughed at his arrogance. "Oh, you won't be. I'll race you right now," she challenged him.
John shrugged. "If it makes you happy."
"We'll see," Bonnie said with a determined smirk. She raced him out the door to their horses, both hitched conveniently at the foreman's office. "I'll show you how we ride around these parts," Bonnie called over her shoulder.
They mounted their horses and Bonnie led him up to the starting line, a point in front of her large house. It seemed that the race had already been decided on, the way led by smoking pyres that created minimal risk for the dry grass surrounding them.
Bonnie counted down, off like a shot when she cried go. John was only steps behind her. "I trust you're not going to be a gentleman about this." Bonnie taunted him.
It was soon enough that he was neck and neck with her, the pain in his side forgotten as he watched her eyes sparkle with mischief. But he was determined to win this one, if only to prove to her that he wasn't some city man. He loathed Edgar Ross and every man like him with their sophisticated clothing and condescending attitude. "Let's pick up the pace," John urged as he passed her.
He could hear Bonnie spurring her horse onwards, but he remained in the lead for the remainder of the race, pulling into the ranch yard just ahead of her. They both slowed to a stop, John glancing at Bonnie's flushed face and wide smile.
"That was fun." she proclaimed, despite the loss.
"Sure." John agreed, though he wasn't quite sure of the point of it. They'd lost daylight that could have been spent on other things. But Bonnie looked genuinely happy, and he could admit that he enjoyed the competitiveness of it.
Bonnie's smile faded as she looked at him. "You know, you should go pay the Marshall a visit in Armadillo sometime. I'm sure he could help you deal with that nice Mr. Williamson."
"Yeah, I might just do that, Miss MacFarlane."
Bonnie smirked. "Do whatever you think's best Mr. Marston."
After the race, John was certain that he would go see the Marshall. It would be quite a ride, and he was reluctant to leave Bonnie, Miss MacFarlane, he corrected himself silently. He didn't have the privilege of addressing her by her first name, and he never would. Yet, Bonnie slipped into his thoughts easily, and almost tripped out of his mouth as well.
He chose to stay another night, convincing himself that it would be better to arrive in the morning or afternoon rather than the late evening, which was guaranteed if he left now. He spent the day wandering the yard of the ranch, checking out the corral and barn. He noticed the ranch lead keeping a careful eye on him, and John wondered if Bonnie had instructed him to. But he didn't think she was the type, too straightforward of a woman to hide anything. Yet, maybe it was her father, who John had heard of but hadn't met personally. John ignored the man, Amos, and chose to spend the rest of the day quietly in his cabin.
The next morning he approached the house just as Bonnie was exiting, She seemed in a cheerful mood, greeting him eagerly.
"Ah, Mr. Marston, how are you?"
"Good Miss MacFarlane, how are you?"
"I'm well...would you mind riding with me to Armadillo? I got to get some supplies and I could do with the company."
"Of course," John agreed readily, pleased to be spending more time with her.
"You can take the reins," Bonnie teased him. "It wouldn't do for such a terrifying bounty hunter such as yourself to be seen driven around by a woman."
John threw his head back and laughed, surprised once again at how at ease he felt with her. And how much he'd been tempted to smile when he was with her.
He hopped up beside her in the wagon, snapping the reins to get the horses moving.
"So do tell me, have you needlessly risked your life since we last spoke?" Bonnie questioned.
John almost laughed, seeing as he'd seen her only the day before. Still, he answered dutifully. "No, miss, I have not."
"Well, that's a relief. Perhaps there's hope for you yet."
John shook his head ruefully. "I wouldn't bet on it."
"Oh, there's always hope, Mr. Marston. You can't be a rancher in this kind of country if you don't believe that."
"An admirable attitude, miss."
"I suppose so. I can't think of any other way to stay sane, to be frank. What about you? Have you ever given up hope altogether?"
John considered the question for a brief second before answering. "Hope hasn't really entered into it. It's not really something I think about."
Bonnie sighed in exasperation. "A peculiar outlook. I can't say I really understand you." she admitted.
"I can't always say I do either." John conceded. Sometimes he couldn't always understand why he was the way he was, but he admittedly didn't spend much time mulling it over.
Bonnie's brow creased as she glared at him. "Oh, don't be so deliberately enigmatic."
"I'm not miss." John protested. He truly was only answering her questions to the best of his ability, but that didn't seem to satisfy her.
"Yes you are," Bonnie asserted. "You're being deliberately obscure as a substitute for having a personality."
John sighed. "I just know there's two theories to arguin' with women. And neither one of them works."
Bonnie huffed. "I'm not even going to dignify that gibberish with a response."
They remained silent for a few minutes, John enjoying the feel of her arm brushing against his. He wasn't a talker by nature, preferring to listen and observe. But Bonnie seemed determined to keep the conversation going.
"I think it's funny I found you dying on the side of the road and now you're driving me into town."
John shot her a look of confusion. "You have a strange sense of humor."
"Well, you must admit," Bonnie hesitated for a moment. "it's an unusual start to a friendship."
John's heart skipped. "I didn't realize we were friends, Miss MacFarlane?"
"Oh, please. Now who's being funny? I know that business with Williamson is your business, but...I don't know..." Bonnie shrugged helplessly. "You've been good to us...And...I don't think you're a bad man. A little stupid perhaps," she teased, "but not rotten. I just worry about you gallivanting around these parts like you're some kind of deranged bounty hunter." Bonnie concluded, "Like Pa always said, don't go waking snakes."
John wasn't quite sure how to respond. He was affected by her words, pleased at her concern but equally annoyed that she felt the need to chastise him when she didn't know the reasons behind what he did. He ignored the thought that it was his fault she was oblivious to what was at stake. But he cared for her safety, genuinely wishing she'd never found him so she wouldn't be caught in this mess with Ross.
"I appreciate your concern for us lesser mortals, Miss MacFarlane. I really do. And if there was any other way out. I'd take it. I can assure you of that."
Bonnie caught the sarcasm in his voice, but also the desperation. She realized that he was telling her as much as he was capable of. Or allowed to. So she let the matter drop, still feeling the sting as he shut her out. She chose to change the subject, steering it towards hopefully less volatile queries. Despite his reticence, she was still eager to learn more, enamored with the man after only a few short conversations.
"You never did tell me where you live."
John figured there was no reason to withhold innocent enough information. Bonnie would never see his home, or even desire to. "I have a small holding up in Great Plains." he conceded.
Bonnie scoffed. "A farmer?" she asked disbelieving. "Yeah, and I'm the Queen of England. And at what point during your day of hunting down outlaws do you find time to raise chickens?"
John took a breath, hoping he wouldn't lose his temper. Bonnie was his friend, by her own admission. But her doubt of the accomplishments he fought so hard for, no matter how dismal they appeared to her, hurt. When he'd allowed no one's words or ridicule to hurt him, not even Abigail's, not even his own son who looked on him with disappointment most days.
"Only been at it for three years or so," he said tightly. "I guess I'm kinda new to it."
"You're telling me!" Bonnie said with some surprise. "So who's looking after this farm of yours right now?"
"Uncle. Well, he's not really my uncle...as far as I know. Just an old dog who's as lazy as a lizard on a hot day. The kinda fella laboring under the delusion that age brings wisdom."
"Urgh...sounds like a perfect person to leave in charge of your entire livelihood."
"We go way back. And I didn't have a lot of choice," John said bitterly, thinking of Jack, alone with only Uncle to protect him from Ross and the men who worked for him.
"I'd be getting back there if I was you." Bonnie suggested, a frown marring her features.
"That's what I'm trying to do, miss."
They remained silent until he could see Armadillo in the distance. He figured Bonnie would stay silent for the rest of the trip but she spoke again. Possibly to end the awkward silence that followed his bitter words.
"How well do you know New Austin?" Bonnie asked.
"I don't. We talked about coming down here many times but we never made it."
"Who's 'we'?" Bonnie asked with some hesitance.
"Me and the folks I used to...used to work with. Yeah. New Austin, the last real outlaw country. Where the old ways still hold true. You do a man wrong, he'll shoot you for it. You do a man right...well, he still may shoot you for it. But at least you have an idea of what's right and what's wrong here."
"Dear, oh dear, Mr. Marston...what dreadful novel did you get that romantacized drivel out of? Those days are long gone, if they were ever here at all. According to Pa, those days were just people shooting each other because they lost at cards. We'll be lucky if our ranch survives another 5 years. Businessmen are the new cowboys."
John didn't agree or disagree, keeping his thoughts to himself. Maybe Bonnie was right. Maybe the world was now run by people like Edgar Ross. But there was still room for men like him, though the walls were closing in on him. Men like Ross needed men like him to do their dirty work. But what then? He forced those thoughts away, focusing on Bonnie as she spoke again with false enthusiasm.
"So this is Armadillo. Manhattan it is not, but it does okay for us. Most important thing for you right now is getting yourself into Doctor Johnson's office to purchase some medicine. The first one's on me."
John accepted her money reluctantly, but he still had nothing of his own. "Thank you, miss. I'll pay you back." he promised.
"I'm sure you shall. The doc's a good fellow. He saved your life, so be polite to him please. Meet me in front of the general store when you're done."
John tipped his hat, making his way to the Doctor's office. The man eyed him warily, recognizing him but he was polite if abrupt. He figured he'd have to take Bonnie's word that the man was usually courteous.
He met Bonnie at the general store, where she was already sitting on the wagon, reins in her hands.
"Well thanks for driving me. It was nice to be able to enjoy the view for once. And a little company never hurts now and again."
"You're more than welcome, miss. Least I can do. Thank you for the medicine."
Bonnie nodded once. "Why don't you have a look around Armadillo? You can always take the stagecoach back to the ranch later."
John could sense her uneasiness around him, the need for time to herself, perhaps to truly take in their conversation. He hoped that she would stay away from him now. Another part of him hoped just as fervently that she would stay her stubborn self and continue to pester him with questions.
"I might do that," he decided. "Travel safely, miss."
"Try not to get yourself shot. I won't be around to save you this time." She spoke with a teasing smile but he could see the genuine worry in her eyes.
He tipped his hat in acknowledgment and watched as she guided the wagon away, back towards her ranch.
Thanks for reading!