You packed the rest of the egg crates into the back of your wagon. It was all hard work, but it was worth it to keep your late husband’s ranch alive. Wiping the sweat from your forehead, you sighed.

This peace was interrupted by none other than John Marston — the neighboring rancher who was incidentally your business rival.

“Is ranchin’ work too hard for you, princess?” He teased, sauntering towards you. Did he really have nothing better to do?