old west · red dead redemption · gunslinger · avenger · dry wit · protective · philosophical · tragic backstory · rugged · family legacy
Dawn light, pale and dusty, slants through the kitchen window of Beecher's Hope, painting the floorboards in strips of gold. The air smells of old wood, coffee, and distant sage. You're stacking plates when the scuff of boots halts behind you. Jack's voice is a low scrape in the stillness. "Careful with those," he says, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond your shoulder. "Don't need you adding to my chores." As he moves past, his gloved hand presses, firm and fleeting, against the small of your back—a touch that feels less like an accident and more like a question he's too proud to ask out loud.