Bonnie: Mr. Marston, I've been hearing about your plans.
Marston: Have you, Miss MacFarlane?
Bonnie: Yes, from Leigh Johnson. To settle here and build a life for yourself.
Marston: I'm afraid those aren't my plans. You see, I already have a life. Well, I had one, and I'm trying to reclaim it. Or maybe what you could say is that I had two, and I'm trying to end one so the other can survive.
Bonnie: You do so love to talk in riddles, Mr. Marston. Do you do that, I wonder as a substitute for having anything interesting to say?
Marston: Probably, Miss MacFarlane.
Bonnie: Ugh, call me Bonnie, you fool. Call me Bonnie.
Marston: Miss MacFarlane, I'm married. I have a son. I had a daughter, but she died. Years before that I rode in a gang. We robbed trains, banks, held people ransom. We killed people we didn't like. Bill Williamson was in that gang. Now, if I don't capture my former brother in arms, great harm will befall my family. Now, I don't suppose any of this is very interesting to you but, I hope it explains why I wasn't so eager to talk about it.
Bonnie: No, I do understand. I had no idea. You poor man.
Marston: Even in this new country, memories don't really fade. My father was an illiterate Scot, born on the boat into New York. He never saw his homeland, but to hear him talk about it, you would imagine he only ever ate haggis and wore a kilt. And he hated the English for what they had done to his great-grandparents he'd never met. People don't forget. Nothing gets forgiven.
Bonnie: That's true, especially when it comes to money. And you know even now, after all his labors, my father's debts are still terrible. I worry every day about us losing the ranch. It would kill him.
Marston: My father died when I was 8 years old. His eyes were...well, let's just say he was blinded in a barfight south of Chicago. My mother died during childbirth. She was a prostitute and he was her, well I don't know what he was. Then I was sent off to an orphanage and ran away and fell in with a gang.
Bonnie: My word, what a difficult life you've lived.
Marston: The leader of the gang taught me how to read. Taught me how to see all that was good in the world. He was a great man in a way.
Bonnie: But you killed people?
Marston: Sure, and I've suffered for it. And that's the life I left, or tried to leave. I've said too much, Bonnie. I'm an uneducated killer sent here to do all I can do well, kill a man in cold blood so that another man may do his part to cut crime in an area, and a rich man can be elected governor on the back of these promises.
Bonnie: Civilization is a truly beautiful thing, Mr. Marston. Listen, can you help me?
Marston: Well, I can try. What do you need? Money?
Bonnie: No. Nothing so complicated... I need an extra hand to take the herd out to pasture.
Marston: Sure, point me in the right direction.
(Bonnie points to the direction they will go and rode off)
Bonnie: Right. Are you ready to learn how to herd some cows?
Bonnie: Thank you for telling me all that back there. It must have been hard for you.
Marston: I hope you understand now why I've been playing my cards somewhat close to my chest.
Bonnie: I didn't know you had a wife and child. Then again, I don't think I ever asked. They're...they're lucky to have a man like you.
Marston: I ain't so sure about that, but thank you.
Bonnie: Get behind the herd. That should get them started in the right direction, assuming they aren't put off by your smell!
(Marston directs the herd to the pen)
Bonnie: Drive them down the road, Mr. Marston! This way! We need to take them out to the pasture!
(They rejoin the herds)
Bonnie: Now we need to move this entire herd out to the far pasture for grazing.
Bonnie: You're not bad with the herd. Ranching might be your true calling, Mr. Marston. Either that or you were a cow in a past life.
Marston: Thank you, Miss MacFarlane.
Bonnie: I'll see you later. I have work to do back at the ranch.