Snake Skin | John Marston (editing)

Some Pumpkin

By 1914, three years had passed since John Marston fell whilst protecting his wife from the U.S. Marshalls. The woman, wanted in every state for evading arrest and much more, hid in deep weeds of Armadillo, far, far away from civilization. Surrounded by coyotes, dry cactuses, and sands, she remained there for most of her time. The law was determined to eliminate every outlaw there was to cleanse the land from savagery and bloodshed - by causing more bloodshed. After leaving yet another gang of outlaws, she was prepared to lay low for the rest of her time.

Occasionally, lone travelers would pass by her small house and ask for directions but she would scare them off by bringing out guns or even killing them. First time in her life, she was surviving not because it was thrilling, but because she was genuinely scared. After living her dream life for a short while, she became scared of dying as her lover did.

Early in the morning, she heard her horse neighing in worry, she quickly got up from her chair and peeked out the window. She saw a man climbing down his horse and hitching it near hers, he then slowly made his way to her porch. Y/N did not hesitate and she grabbed the rifle near her bed. She walked out, gripping the rifle tightly and the man paused in his tracks.

"Hello, Miss," the man greeted her. She examined him and his clothing. He had a mustache and a bearded chin, though he looked very young...and very familiar.

"Who are you and what are you doing on my land?" Y/N questioned the man. He kept a smile on his face the whole time and that made the woman suspicious.

"Let me introduce myself. My name's Jack. Jack Marston. It's great to see you, Y/N," the man spoke a bit enthusiastically.

With a heart full of shock, Y/N almost dropped her weapon. She covered her mouth with one palm as she stared at Jack, "...Jack?"

"Believe me, Miss, I'm as shocked as you are."

"Is that really you?" Y/N questioned him again and waved him over, "Come in! Come in!"

Jack accepted the invite and went inside with Y/N. The woman's house was small, with barely enough space for a few people. But that was the good thing, she was hard to find out in the wastelands.

Jack sat down at the small table, right in front of the woman. He did not know what to say or when to say it, so they awkwardly stared at each other. How many years had passed? 15? Surely, that was a long time. He recognized her immediately, starting from the posters and ending with her stepping out of her home, in fact, he never forgot her face.

She was nice to him, even though he heard nasty rumors about her. Y/N didn't recognize Jack, though she saw similarities to John in his facial features. She saw John in the young man and it brought blues and guilt to her heart.

All those years, every time Abigail mentioned Y/N, she would speak only great things about her. Abigail Roberts did not hold grudges against Y/N for sweeping John away and she taught Jack not to think badly of her too. That way, Jack grew up thinking Y/N saved him and his mother.

"I...I did not expect to see anyone...ever again," Y/N spoke softly as she fiddled with her hands.

"For all I know, we could be the last of the Van Der Linde gang."

"You already know what happened to your father, right?" Y/N asked, noiselessly.

Jack nodded, "I know. I read the papers. Edgar Ross killed him, shot him like a dog..."

"Your father saved me. He sent me away right before he fell. They shot Uncle too, but that fool was already dying. Lumbago, he said. Jack, how's your mother?"

"She passed not long ago, Miss. Sickness took her," Jack explained as he gazed down at the table. It was dirty and had a lot of scratch marks from knives.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Your mother...she loved you very much but I think you know that. She did everything she could for you, and always placed you first. You're lucky and I hope you know that, young man."

"Ah," Jack exclaimed as he reached for his bag. "I almost forgot what I came here for. I've got a letter for you. I'm sorry, it's very old. Believe it or not, it's from the 19th century. Miss."

"Really? Thank you, Jack. From whom is it?" Y/N asked as she accepted the letter from the young man.

"My father. But anything for an old friend, I doubt I'd be here if it wasn't for you," Jack declared.

"John? Really? Oh, I don't know about that. Life works in mysterious ways. Say, how do you have this letter?"

"I went to Beecher's Hope...after the lawmen swept the place clean. It was a sad sight to see, Miss, but I managed to find this letter."

"Call me Y/N for God's sake," Y/N joked. She placed the letter on her bed without looking at it much. She wanted to read it later, maybe before going to sleep.

"Alright then-" Jack started but Y/N interrupted him.

"You can stay here if you want, there's enough space for you. If you don't have anywhere else to go, that is."

"I can't. I'm on a mission, Miss," Jack explained and stood up from his seat.

"That was just an offer. You're welcome to stay anytime. And what are you up to, Jack Marston?"

"I was headed to Lake Don Julio and happened to run into you. I was looking for you, to give you that letter, but didn't know you were all the way out here. I'm headed to Lake Don Julio to find Edgar Ross..."

"Edgar Ross?" Y/N questioned the man.

"Yes, I'm going to kill him. I'm going to avenge my father."

Y/N nodded at him, "Some pumpkin you are. I won't stop you because I'd do the same. Hell, I'd probably shoot up the entire state. Don't do that, though."

"Didn't you already?" Jack joked as he turned the doorknob to head out. Y/N guided him to his horse and Jack mounted up. She opened the gate for him and he slowly passed through it.

"Well, goodbye then," Jack said while he turned his head to look at the woman.

"Hope to see you again, Jack Marston!"

Jack nodded at Y/N enthusiastically and quickly galloped away. Y/N watched him disappear into the distance and finally went inside. When she entered the house, the letter fell into her eyesight and she quickly grabbed it from the surface of the bedding.

She unfolded the letter and focused her eyes on the bad handwriting. It was John's handwriting, she would know.

"1899, April 12th

Dear Y/N Colter,

I am not good with wording how I feel but once you read this, I'm hoping that you'll understand. I'm sure I've fallen for you the exact moment when I saw you shoot a gun, you make me wish I was more of a man.

I could not convince Dutch to think clearly, I'm sorry for letting you go like that. All I can do now is foolishly hope you're alive and well. You're the type of woman to duel me with your eyes closed and still shoot me up big, of course, you're well.

I'm many things, most of em bad. Yet I know for sure that I'm in love with you, Y/N.

I hope to see another day with you.

JM"