John Marston, the married man to Abigail Marston with a son, was starting to feel weird around a certain hispanic man. John would always feel the need to go out of his way to go and talk to Javier, to be nice to him, and just overall be a better person to him. He was sitting down by the campfire on a wooden log, elbows on his knees as he looked down at the ground, deep in thought. This couldn't be happening to him, no way! This was the early 1800s after all, this was not supposed to happen.