The Ballad Of a Bird~ Jack Marston Story

☙ ✯ ❧ Prologue ☙ ✯ ❧

{listen while you read?~ I recommend Winds Change by Orville Peck}
~ ☙ ✯ ❧ ~ ☙ ✯ ❧ ~ ☙ ✯ ❧ ~ ☙ ✯ ❧ ~ ☙ ✯ ❧ ~

1910

Birdie lingered near her steed, meticulously stowing her few possessions into her saddlebags. Meanwhile, John was busy acquainting Jack and Abigail with the ranch he had painstakingly constructed for them. With a final, resigned sigh, she mounted her horse and directed it towards the road that led away from the farm. As she approached the exit, a familiar voice echoed her name.

"Birdie! Wait!"

She reined in her horse and swiveled in her saddle, the leather groaning under her movement.

A slender figure was sprinting down the road towards her. She couldn't help but smirk, covering her mouth with her hand as the boy stumbled, narrowly avoiding a face-plant.

"Careful, Jack!" His mother's voice rang out from the house.
"Let the boy learn, Abigail," came his father's voice, echoing the same sentiment Birdie had heard all her life.

Eventually, the boy slowed to a halt a few feet from the horse bearing the girl he feared he might never see again. The two sixteen-year-olds locked eyes until Jack broke the silence.

"Where are you headed?" he inquired, his cheeks flushing slightly at his own question. Birdie couldn't help but chuckle before responding.

"Ms. Adler has offered me a place to stay," she replied.

"But you're always welcome here...with us...with me," Jack stammered, causing Birdie to sink slightly in her saddle. With a melancholic sigh, she dismounted and approached Jack.

"I know, Jack. But I yearn to see the world, and Sadie is giving me that opportunity," she explained. Jack's shoulders sagged in disappointment. He knew Birdie well enough to understand that once she made up her mind, nothing could sway her.

"But I'm afraid I might never see you again, Birdie B.," Jack murmured so softly that Birdie barely heard him. She offered him a tender smile, touched by his concern.

"Jack, you're overlooking something," she pointed out, and the boy looked at her, puzzled.

"What?" He queried, as he never forgets anything she had told him.

"You're a Marston, and I'm a Morgan. Our lives are inextricably linked. We'll cross paths again, I'm certain of it," she assured him, and Jack smiled, comprehending her words.

"So, this is goodbye for now?" Jack queried.

"No, not a goodbye...more like a see you further down the road," she responded. Jack felt a slight lift in his spirits, though a tinge of sadness still lingered.

"Until then, Birdie B Morgan," Jack said, and the girl beamed. They shared a warm hug, and she planted a gentle kiss on his cheek before they parted. She then remounted her horse.

"See you on the road, Jack Marston," she declared, offering a small salute accompanied by a sincere smile. Jack reciprocated, and Birdie spurred her horse into a gallop. Jack remained rooted to the spot, his gaze fixed on her retreating figure until it disappeared over the hills. He stayed there even as the sun dipped behind the same hills and darkness enveloped the sky.

"You'll see her again, son," John assured, joining his son's side.

"I'm not so sure, pa," the boy replied, doubting his father's words.

"I believe you will. She's a Morgan, and you're a Marston. Your paths are bound to intersect again," John reiterated, causing Jack to smirk slightly.

"That's exactly what she said," he shared with his father, who responded with a knowing smirk and draped an arm around his son's shoulders.

"Well, she's a wise girl who speaks the truth. Let's head back, your mother's almost done with dinner," the elder Marston suggested.

"God help us," his son quipped, eliciting a shared chuckle between them. John then steered them back towards the house.

"You know, son, the way you look at Birdie is the same way I look at your mother," John remarked, slowing their pace slightly.

"What do you mean, pa?" Jack asked, hoping his father wouldn't tease him about something he didn't comprehend.

"She's the kind of beauty that makes your heart race. She's the kind of secret you can't keep to yourself. You're unsure where it all might lead, but it's the most exhilarating feeling you've ever experienced," John shared his limited wisdom on the subject of love.

They walked in silence for a while, drawing closer to the house. Jack cast a final glance over his shoulder in the direction Birdie had taken.

"Do you think she's alright?" Jack asked his father.

"She's fine. Sadie was meeting her in Blackwater. By now, they're probably halfway to the heartlands. Your mother made Birdie promise to write to us whenever she can," John reassured, easing his son's worry slightly.

Soon, the pair entered the house and everyone settled down for dinner. However, they couldn't shake off the feeling that someone was missing. Birdie's chair remained vacant, and the table setting in front of it was untouched.

~1911~

A year had passed since Birdie left with Sadie. Now, John Marston was no more, and Jack had just laid his father to rest after only recently reuniting with him. His mother wept beside the two crosses on the hill where they had exchanged their wedding vows.

All those who knew John were there, offering their support to the remaining Marston. However, the one person Jack yearned to see the most was absent. Birdie was off pursuing her latest bounty and was yet to learn of John's demise, as Sadie had no means to reach her. A stack of letters awaited her at the nearest post office, wherever that might be.

~1914~

Jack stood alone on the hill, lighting a cigarette as he gazed at the newest grave next to his father's. His mother was now gone too, and he was left with no one. He had packed up his cherished belongings from the house and was now steering the wagon away from the ranch he once called home. He couldn't bear to stay there alone. The outlaw life was calling out to him, beckoning him. He was now following in his father's footsteps, despite the elder Marston's attempts to conceal them. His efforts were in vain, as his son was closely trailing the covered tracks, setting out to avenge his father.

The day same Jack left the ranch just a few minutes after him because the house was warm and smelt of him. As the sun was setting, a powerful horse thundered into the eerily quiet Beecher's Hope. The rider had received a letter a few days prior.

"Jack?"