HERS |Tris Morgan x Jack Marston |Book III of HIS Series

A Different Kind of Redemption

Willard's rest started its morning like any other.

"John, are you up yet?"

Abigail clatters around the kitchen beginning her morning ritual of cooking an overwhelming spread of bacon, eggs, toast, and sausages.

Her culinary skills had become more refined over the years and she had happily settled into her long-awaited dream life of being a housewife. Taking her duties seriously she ensured that everyone's day began with a hearty meal that she'd lovingly prepared. Her favorite thing to see was seeing everyone leaving with a full belly.

"Smells delicious." John glances over her shoulder, watching the bacon sizzle. Pressing a quick kiss to her cheek he settles at the table and helps himself to a slice of toast. "Remind me why you didn't do the cooking in camp again?"

Abigail smirks down at the pan. Her marriage to John was everything she had hoped for, they had a cozy roof over their head, their son was grown (although still frustratingly unwed), and they had enough money and food for them to live comfortably.

It was the simple life she had always craved, quiet and more importantly without drama. But, from time to time, she liked to put a little spark back into her life by teasing her unwitting husband.

"Oh, I dunno John." She sighs dramatically, causing him to lift his eyes, " I guess the stress of raising our son alone for a year, took its toll."

"M'ifs beef twenfty mears!" John cries with the toast half dangling from his mouth.

Tilting her head she stares into the distance and taps her chin thoughtfully with the spatula. "I wonder how life would have been if I had married Arthur..."

"Whaf!?" John balks, his lips spraying crumbs as he quickly tries to swallow.

"Or Sean..."

"You can't--" he gasps beginning to choke. Quickly he reaches for his coffee.

Abigail turns and leans back against the edge of the cooker. Clutching her chest she stares off into the distance wistfully.

"Or Uncle."

John begins to sputter, the coffee hitting the wrong hole.

"Woman." he wheezes through his coughing fit.

A smirk creaks across her face.

"It's too earl--. God damn it."

He grips the table for more leverage and bends over fighting to clear his lungs. Finally able to breathe he sits up to glare at his grinning wife, his cheeks were bright red and his eyes were watering.

"Are you trying to kill me!? I thought you were serious!"

She smirks, satisfied with her torment she turns back to her bacon. "Chew your food,"

John shakes his head "Chew my-." he scoffs and drags this morning paper towards himself.

"Not like I didn't have options myself." he mutters.

"I heard that."

"You were meant to." he scowls, burying his nose into today's headlines.

Despite the teasing John finds a smile creeping back onto his face. Mornings with his wife were his favorite time, he loved seeing her carefree and happy. To him it was everything he had fought for. They finally had peace.

The family had built a successful business from horse training and breeding. Money came in regularly and, more importantly it was clean. The law was no longer on their backs and after thirteen years the world seemed to have forgotten about the once notorious Van Der Linde gang.