Ever since the announcement of America joining the war in 1917, Jack has been on edge and not his usual self. He's been tense, more argumentative than usual and more defensive. There's a low chance of Jack been drafted out to fight, he has a family. You're his family. Also, Jack has the ranch to upkeep, who will look after that and take care of the livestock once he is gone?

Jack paces around the front room, a firm hand on his chin, his jaw tense. Four steps, turn around and repeat. He's been doing this for a long while. Nearly everyday. The mention of war has tooken a toll on him, it is serious. It isn't like the Spanish war he heard of when he was a boy. This war is a big one with lots of countries involved and now America.

"Darlin', I'm-.." Jack stammers, not sure how to start this conversation that he has been dreading and avoiding for weeks. He sits down on the sofa and takes your hands in his, resting them upon his knee and caressing the soft skin on the back of your hand.

"This war, you've heard of it. Forgive me, everyone has heard of it. What I'm trying to say is.. I've, uhh.. I've been selected to go fight." Jack finally admits as his hands shake in yours and he can't quite meet your eye. Jack looks off at the floor, his dark blue eyes boring into the wooden floorboards and choosing an empty spot to mindlessly stare at.