A week after arriving in the Antebellum period, I found myself sitting at the kitchen table peeling potatoes with Roseanna and Nancy, while Levicy worked to repairing a pair of her husband's trousers. I felt numb.

Each night, I went to bed thinking that it would be over, that I'd wake up and be back in my own time. Each morning, I woke up when the rooster crowed at sunrise, and followed Roseanna's lead in dressing the children and preparing breakfast for the family. Then, I laundered clothes in the wash bin out back or swept the porch or stuffed hay into the mattresses. I washed the dishes from the night before and brushed out Mary and Elizabeth's hair and changed Detroit's linen diapers. I milked the cow (after getting shown how to by Johnse, who took way too much pleasure in mocking my accent and city ways) and collected eggs from the hen house and learned to make venison stew from the carcasses hanging in the barn. It was a routine, no matter how alien it all felt, and from using the latrine to brushing my teeth with sticks I managed to adapt. But all I wanted was to go home.

Roseanna and Levicy were kind, but after a week it was clear they were both hoping I would have been a bit happier, a bit more settled and enjoying the family. But how could I connect to them, what on earth did we have in common? I couldn't talk to the kids about Harry Potter or Disney movies, I could ask Johnse who he thought would survive Game of Thrones, and I certainly wasn't about to ask Anse advice on how to interview for jobs.

So, I peeled my potatoes and tried to be invisible. If I didn't speak, if they didn't ask questions, they wouldn't know how much of an outsider I was and that just made things easier. Luckily, I barely saw the men - from dawn until dusk they worked that the lumber yard, only coming back to the house for supper. The women and children had learned to ignore me.

"Mama, sings us a song," Elias whined, plopping down on the bench next to her.

It had been raining for almost 48 hours and the children were going a bit stir crazy. Levicy looked frazzled.

"Not now, Elias, go play with your sisters." Mary and Elizabeth were sitting on the rug in front of the fireplace, playing with dolls.

Elias looked to Roseanna, pleadingly, but she just smiled and shook her head. "You know I ain't no singer."

"Miss Emma," he asked, finally looking at me. I glanced up - all eyes were on me now. "Are there songs from up north you know? I've heard all the old ones Mama sings so many times."

Levicy raised her brows at me and Roseanna smiled.

"Oh I…I don't know."

"Please, Miss Emma!" he begged, giving me an adorable pout. Damn him.

"Okay," I sighed, picking up a metal cup. Time for the old stand-by I used to impressed kids at sleep-away camp in middle school.

I got my ticket for the long way round

Two bottle whiskey for the way

And I sure would like some sweet company

And I'm leavin' tomorrow, what'dya say?

When I'm gone, when I'm gone

You're gonna miss me when I'm gone

You're gonna miss me by my hair

You're gonna miss me everywhere

Oh, you're sure gonna miss me when I'm gone

I was no Anna Kendrick and I was sure I stumbled over the second verse when the metal cup slipped from my hand slightly, but by the end of the song, all of the children had gathered around the table and even Levicy and Roseanna had stopped their chores to listen. The kids all clapped as I finished and I found myself smiling, really smiling, for the first time since I arrived.

"You're a mighty talent, Miss Emma," Levicy said, looking at me proudly, as Elias and Mary demanded to hear it again. I blushed - my mom used to tell me that as well. It was something we loved to do together, sing. I realized in that moment that I hadn't sung since she died. It didn't hurt as much as I thought it would; if anything, it made me feel closer to her.

Elizabeth told everyone at dinner that night about my impromptu concert. I smiled sheepishly as all eyes found me. Johnse was particularly impressed.

"Well, my, my," he said. "Let's hear it then, Emma. Ain't no one in this family can sing proper."

So, at the end of dinner, I stood before them all in front of the fire place. Elias wanted to hear 'Cups' again, but for an older audience, I decided to go with something a bit more mature. Surprisingly, I wasn't nervous. I didn't like public speaking or being the center of attention, but when it came to singing…I felt free.

I sang 'What a Wonderful World', one of my parents' favorites. It seemed to go over well with everyone - Levicy had a tear roll down her cheek, Johnse was leaning against Roseanna and even Devil Anse was watching me with genuine interest. But my gaze fell on Cap who, for the first time in the week I had been living with him, was looking directly at me. Our eyes met and I didn't look away, giving him a slight smile. He didn't return it, but his face softened.

I went to bed that night looking forward to the next day.

I officially became the favorite of the children. I sang them nursery rhymes and told them fairytales, taught them Cat's Cradle and how to juggle. They followed me around asking questions about New York, asking for more stories and making up little songs of their own. I felt a bit like the Pied Piper.

The older boys were a bit different. Johnse, who I quickly realized was head over heels in love with Roseanna, teased me constantly. While I had felt a twinge of attraction to him initially, these faded over time – he was a bit of an idiot, to be honest, but a good-hearted one.

Anse didn't talk to me much, he asked me a few questions about my family (which I answered as honestly as I could, under the close watch of Levicy), but beyond that didn't take much interest. Robert E, the middle boy at age 15, acknowledged me as maybe another Roseanna – some young woman shoved into his house and taking up space at the table. But he was friendly enough. Ellison was very nice and pleasant to talk to, but he lived a few miles away with his son, Cotton. Cotton was a sweet kid, probably 16 or so. He loved my accent – or lack thereof – and kept asking me to say different words, trying to repeat it back to me the same way. He was blown away when I Started speaking a few phrases in different languages.

And then there was Cap. Cap was different from them all, but pulled a few of their characteristics into his own personality. He was kind like his mother, stern like his father, handsome like his brother, and every once in a while I would see a flash of mischief in his eye whenever he played with his little siblings. When he looked at me, it was always with curiosity, and an intensity that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. We didn't speak much, if at all, but enough was being communicated through looks and body language.

I noticed things about him, little quirks and traits that were uniquely him. He swept his hair in a way that might cover his capped eye. He took extra care with his horse - noticed him saving some carrots for her a couple of occasions. He loved to read and write, and every evening he sat by a lantern with some book in his hands, taking notes in the margins. Right now, he was deep into Herman Melville, reading some chapters from Moby Dick aloud to the older children. I sat nearby, practicing my knitting and listening. I had read it in 10th grade, but I found myself loving Cap's southern twang. Every afternoon, after he got back from the timer yard, Cap practiced his shooting. His aim was impeccable, the best in the state, I was told by Johnse, a hint of pride mingled with jealousy in his voice. Cap was modest about it; whenever he made a particularly impressive shot, he cocked his head to the side and gave a small smile, not letting the hooting and hollering of his siblings go to his head.

Above all else, though, it was clear that he idolized his father. Anse was not one to really give his sons compliments – I don't think I heard anything more than a 'well done' when Elliot showed him a horse he had widdled from a piece of wood. Whenever he entered the room, though, Cap was at attention, did his bidding without question, like it was his only goal in life to impress his father, to get his approval.

Sunday night, I helped Levicy and Roseanna prepare our biggest meal to date - Anse's brothers were joining us for supper. While I was looking forward to seeing Ellison again, I was nervous about meeting more members of the Hatfield Clan. Would they be like Anse?

When they all arrived it was clear, once again, that everyone had a personality of their own. While I had only just been able to keep all the heads in the house straight, throwing more bearded men into the mix Started to just confuse me more. Not only did Anse's three brother's join us, but so did his Uncle Jim.

I was surprised to learn that Anse wasn't the eldest of his brothers, especially since he was the one everyone seemed to take their cues from. The oldest was actually Wall, who was the Justice of the Peace in Mate Creek and a judge. He was a stern man, with a salt and pepper beard and dark eyes. While he wasn't the most approachable, Wall certainly didn't have the g that Anse was reported to have. After Wall and Anse was Ellison, who I had met my first day. He had a young, bright face, with a rust colored beard. I didn't know much about his story - only that Cotton Top's real name was Ellison Mounts and was an illegitimate son, who Uncle Ellison had taken in after Cotton's mother passed away. The entire family was good to Cotton, despite his difficulties, and they were also fiercely protective. Cotton's positivity was something that no one could deny, and he never failed to make you smile. I even saw Devil Anse chuckle once at his antics.

Elias, or Good Lias, was the youngest of the brothers, and he really just seemed happy to be there. He played with the kids, joked with the adults, and was just pleasant company in general. Lias looked incredibly similar to the last person to join us for dinner, Jim Vance, though they couldn't have been more different in personalities.

Jim Vance was rough, crude, and rather unpleasant. As soon as he learned I was from the North he spat at my feet and made some comment about a "piece of Yankee bull" under his breath. I heard it, and I was sure Anse did as well, but he didn't say anything.

"Now Jim, Emma is family," Ellison chided, but Jim refused to look at me the rest of the evening.

Much to my dismay, it seemed Cap looked up to this man. I saw no redeeming qualities in him, even during our short interactions, but I told myself that maybe I had judged too soon.

I was quizzed with the normal questions about my family ("Only child?" "What type did your Pa do?") and life in the city, answering as Levicy and I had practiced. The menfolk soon lost interest in me, however, and went right back to chatting about work and eventually, the McCoys.

My ears perked up at this, just as Roseanna's cheeks reddened. Jim Vance had apparently gotten in a bit of an altercation at the saloon the night before.

"Damn McCoys best watch their back," he grumbled, petting his dog on the head. "I won't have none of them disrespecting me no more. Next one I see gets a bullet between the eyes."

"That's enough talk," Levicy said sternly, shooting a look in my direction, which Jim caught. I had raised my eyebrows involuntarily at his comment, as it seemed a bit harsh, but I quickly wiped my face of all emotion. Unfortunately, Jim caught my reaction.

"Don't want me upsettin' the Yankee?" he asked mockingly. I was surprised Anse let him talk to Levicy that way, but Cap's father just took another drag of his pipe. "Well, she's here now. Right in the thick of it. Best she learns or else she's gonna have herself a baptism by fire, I'll tell you."

"Can we not talk about this?" Johnse said with a groan, partly for the benefit of Roseanna, I was sure, and partly because I think he was tired of hearing about it.

"We sure as hell will talk about this," Jim Vance snapped back, glaring at his great nephew. "This is your family, boy! This is about respect, revenge and honor. You 'member when those cowards Paris and Samuel McCoy killed your cousin Bill Staton a few years back? Murdered in cold blood, he was."

"I ain't surprised by it none! Bill was a drunk and had it comin'," Johnse responded, "mouthin' off like he was."

Jim Vance suddenly looked thunderous. "That ain't the point!" he hollered, standing up and looming over Johnse, who now looked like a boy of eight rather than a man of 21 underneath the angry gaze of Jim. "Them damn McCoys ain't nothin' but lying, thievin', murderin' sons of bitches and soon as you realize that, the better." He calmed himself down with a swig of whiskey, before sitting back down and mumbling to himself, "blinded by that McCoy whore of yours," just loud enough for everyone to hear.

Johnse jumped out of his seat in defense of Roseanna, but was immediately held back by Ellison and Cap, while Jim sat in his chair and laughed with condescension.

"Ah sit down, boy, I'm only teasing." It was clear he wasn't. It was clear he hated the McCoys, Roseanna included, with every fiber of his being.

Roseanna was on the verge of tears but still had not made a peep. Lias, Levicy and Wall all looked tired; Anse had the decency to look annoyed with his uncle.

"I think we best call it a night," he said calmly, but the authority was still there. The guests rose as if on cue.

I slowly released the grip I had on the side of my chair, not realizing just how tightly I was holding it. I had witnessed drunken altercations between family members, usually at holidays over how to cook a turkey or which football team should win. But never over a murder. Or someone's girlfriend who was sitting right there. The visitors left one by one, and I made a point not to make eye contact with Jim Vance, or even give him a proper farewell.

Soon it was me, Johnse and Cap cleaning up the room – putting chairs back and such. Levicy and Anse were arguing in hushed tones in their bedroom, while Roseanna had gone to bed early, saying she had been taken ill. I didn't blame her for wanting to get out of there - I felt immensely uncomfortable and it was nothing I was even involved with.

"Bet you're wondering what all that was about," Johnse said to me, helping me move a bench back to the kitchen table. "Wouldn't blame ya, if you were."

"It's okay," I replied, even though I was desperately curious. "It's none of my business, really."

"Well, it sort of is now," Cap replied and I looked over at him, surprised he was speaking to so openly to me. "Jim was right, you're here now. You're against them just as much as we are."

"We ain't against nobody," Johnse replied, dropping his voice and looking over his shoulder at the girls' bedroom. "It's because of some dumb stuff with Pa that happened years ago. Ain't got nothin' to do with us."

"You know that ain't true, Johnse."

"Yeah, well, it ain't make no sense. Roseanna and I ain't done nothin'. Hell, I don't even care about what her brothers did to me. All that this shit has done is kept me from marryin' the woman I love."

Johnse, no matter how dimwitted he was at times, was a bit of hopeless romantic. It was quite cute.

"What did her brothers do?" I asked, folding a blanket.

"Shot him," Cap replied before Johnse could sugar coat it.

"Wait, what?" I asked in disbelief. "They shot you? Why?"

Johnse sent a glare at his brother before sighing. "It was all a misunderstandin', ya see. They saw me kissin' on Roseanna and thought I'd violated her, stolen her virtue and such."

"And had you?"

"No, course not," he replied, but not very convincingly. "Anyway, it don't matter now, does it? They didn't kill me and I'm all healed up, good as new."

"It's very Romeo and Juliet, if you ask me," I commented with a shrug. This was met with silence and I looked up to see the two of them Staring at me with blank expressions. "Romeo and Juliet? William Shakespeare?" They blinked.

"He's one of them fancy writers," Cap said. "I've see them big books down at the General Store. Don't understand 'em none."

"It's a play," I explained. "Star-crossed lovers, feuding families and revenge murders. It's a really beautiful, actually. 'Romeo, oh Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name, or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love and I'll no longer be a Capulet.'"

The boys just looked at me. "We got a girl here with some beauty and some brains," Johnse beamed. "I didn't understand half of what you just said, Miss Yankee, but I think I like it."

"The girl's asking him to give up his family name," Cap offered, not taking his eyes off of me. "And if he won't, she'll do it for him."

"Exactly," I replied with a smile. "'That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet.' She doesn't care what his name is, as long as he is her Romeo."

"I think I like this play," Johnse said. "I really need to read more."

"You don't know how to read," Cap shot back and Johnse through a towel at him.

"Alright, I'm headed up," Johnse said, coming over and surprising me with a kiss on the cheek. "Have a good night, Emma."

I finished the cleaning was Cap and when we were done we followed me over to the door to my room.

"I been thinkin'," he said, hands in his pockets, and I turned to look at him. "'Bout would you said about Romeo and Juliet. 'Bout names. Names, they're apart of you. Your name and your family define who you are."

"Only if you let them, I guess," I replied, suddenly very aware that were were alone for the first time. Was he going to kiss me on the cheek too? I found myself wanting him to.

"So what happens?"

"What do you mean?"

"What happens to Romeo and Juliet?"

"Oh…well, they die."

"That don't sound too romantic to me."

"It's a tragedy," I said quickly, trying to back track a bit. "I mean, it's horribly sad, but also really beautiful."

Cap thought for a moment and then smiled at me. "Guess I'll need to read it then. But best not to go tellin' Johnse how it ends. Have a goodnight, Miss Emma."

And with that he turned and headed upstairs and I felt the butterflies come alive in my stomach.

"Mama," Robert E sidled up to his mother, looking as innocent and charming as possible, clearly wanting something. "I just saw Charlie O'Connell down near the road. He said there's a barn dance at the Wolford's tonight. Can I go?"

Levicy looked at her son. We were sitting out on the porch, enjoying the cool day. I was braiding Nancy's hair, as we watched Johnse chopping wood on the front lawn. It had been a couple of days since the big family dinner and there was still a bit of awkwardness regarding the McCoy business. Roseanne was quieter than normal - and she rarely said much anyway - and I was hoping something would happen to change up our routine a bit, maybe let people think of something else.

"Is this because you want to see young Mariah?" Levicy asked, eyebrows raised. Johnse wolf whistled and Robert E glared.

"Everyone's gonna be there."

Levicy sighed. "Did you ask your father?"

"He said to ask you."

"It's already late," she said looking out at the setting sun, but after a moment she gave in. "Alright, you can go. But only if your brothers go with you."

Robert E turned to Johnse, and to Cap who was now walking up from the barn.

"I think that's a mighty fine idea, Robert E," the eldest Hatfield said, sticking the axe into a log. "Roseanna probably needs some time outta the house."

"She still ain't feelin' her best," Levicy said quickly, though I knew that Roseanna was just upset. I didn't say anything, though. The idea of Roseanna and Johnse being seen out seemed like it would just cause more problems than it was worth.

"What about you, Emma?" I looked up at Cap, who had reached the stairs. Interested in seein' a real southern barn dance?"

I was, actually, but looked to Levicy to approval. "Go," she said with a kind smile. "You've not left the house since you got here. Do you some good to meet some new people."

It was a bit of an odd sight, I suppose, an actual barn all decorated, with a stage and loads of young folks dancing and mingling. A barn social was something that I saw in movies about undefeated Texas high school football teams hoping to win the big one or towns were the mayor has decided that dancing should be prohibited, only to be undermined by a smooth talking Kevin Bacon. But here I was, at a barn owned by the Wolford family, right near the river, with lanterns and streamers and string band fiddling away.

"There's Mariah," Robert E said, jumping off the back of the wagon and dashing over to a pretty young girl was dark hair. I looked at Johnse, who smirked at his little brother.

"Ah, young love," he grinned at me and I rolled my eyes. "Well, look at that sass, Miss Yankee," Johnse howled. "I guess we're seein' the real side of you then." It was true. I hadn't meant to show my emotions like that, but when I was just with Johnse or Cap or the younger kids, I felt more at ease, more like I could be myself. I didn't need to watch my every step around them, and it seemed they appreciated my sarcasm and "Yankee-ness" a bit more than the adults.

"Oh, leave me alone Johnse," I laughed, moving to get out of the wagon. Cap appeared in front of me, holding his hand out for me to take.

"Thanks," I said, looking at him. I was still finding Cap hard to read. Unlike Johnse, who said just about whatever popped into his head, Cap played his cards close to his chest. Like his father, he was stoic most of the time, but I had seen him laugh and smile with his brothers and sisters a few times. He wasn't completely without a sense of humor. After our discussion about Romeo and Juliet, it felt like we had crossed into a deeper level of friendship.

"Hey, Hatfields!"

We looked at a group of young men who were drinking by the side of the barn. They waved us over, and I looked to Johnse and Cap.

"Come meet some of our friends," Johnse said to me.

"I'm going to go see Annabelle and Penny," Nancy said, looking to her brothers for approval.

"Alright, but don't go runnin' off nowhere without sayin' something," Johnse said, as she skipped off into the crowd. I followed the two blonde boys to the cart where four men were sitting and drinking.

"Howdy Cap, Johnse," one said, nodding to them both. His hair was black save for a flash of white across the front. He was older than both Cap and Johnse, possibly closer to thirty, a bit too old to be at a barn dance, if you asked me. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Emma Anderson," Johnse introduced me. "The one we'd done told you about. Emma, this is Tom Wallace, though everyone calls him Skunkhair. Then we have French Ellis, Lark Varney, and the one at the back is Alex Messer." I smiled at them in greeting. They all seemed friendly enough, though I doubted I would be calling anyone 'Skunkhair'.

"Nice to meet you guys."

They glanced at each other and grinned.

"Woowee," French said, elbowing his friend sharply. "We do got a Yankee girl on our hands, Larky."

"You best watch yourself, Miss Emma," Alex said, leaning forward with a smile. "You'll be mighty popular, I bet my life on it."

"Really?" I asked, slightly unsure if he was kidding or not. "I'd think the Yankee bit would make me unpopular." I'd gotten enough grief from Jim Vance to know that the Civil War was still alive and well for a lot of folks.

"Fifteen years ago, maybe," Tom said with an easy shrug. "But right now, I'd say you'd be quite a catch for some young fella." He winked and I raised my eyebrow at him.

"They can sure try, but it won't be easy."

"Well, she is a pistol, ain't she, Johnse?" Lark asked. "You got yourself a handful!"

"Oh, we ain't together," Johnse replied sheepishly, looking at me. "Roseanna just ain't feelin' all that well so she decided to stay back at home."

The boys glanced at one another. Apparently, Roseanna didn't have much interaction with them. As a McCoy, I doubt she was ever really invited.

"We best be headin' in," Cap said. "I promised Betsy Lightbridge a dance." His friends clapped and wolf-whistled and I rolled my eyes again. Men really were the same no matter what century you were in.

Johnse and Cap lead me into the barn, and I took in all the people. It wasn't that I didn't want to meet people, it was just that this was a bit overwhelming. I didn't want to make some awkward faux-pas, say something I shouldn't, or just make a outright foot of myself. Not to mention that I didn't know the music – which had been the reason that I thought I would enjoy myself.

I really missed my iPod.

Taking in my surroundings had distracted me just long enough for Johnse to disappear. Cap was still near me, but he was talking with another guy. I stood there, searching for Johnse over the heads of others. He was the easiest to talk to, but I didn't really want to burden him by being clingy.

"Looks like Johnse's found somethin' to keep him entertained," Cap said in my ear, pointing over to the far side of the barn near the big metal tub which seemed to hold punch (yes, there was actually a punch bowl), where Johnse was standing over some red head, smiling charmingly down at her.

I looked at Cap. "He isn't going to…you know…"

The idea that Johnse might cheat on Roseanna infuriated me, and I didn't want my night to be ruined that easily.

"Naw, he won't do nothin'," Cap replied with an easy shrug. "Johnse only has one mode when talkin' to girls, and that's flirtin'."

That I could see. "So I don't need to smack him on Roseanna's behalf?"

Cap gave a genuine grin and I found myself smiling because of it."You could do that anyway, I wouldn't mind. Be mighty entertainin' if you ask me."

"Aren't you going to go find Betty?" I asked, finding that I didn't really want him to.

"What? Oh, you mean Betsy. Yeah…" Cap trailed off a bit and ran a hand through his hair. "I might have made that up, ya see."

"Why?"

He gave a sardonic smile. "Not too many girls want to dance with Fog Eye."

I frowned. Cap was good-looking, hell, I'll say it: Cap was hot. Even with a white eye. It added to his mystery, his aura. But I guess I could understand how many girls might be put off by it. It seemed girls were the same across centuries, too.

"Well, I'll dance with you," I offered. "Only I don't know any of the songs."

"It's alright," he said. "You don't need to be nice about it, I'm not a big dancer anyways." I wanted to tell him that I wasn't just being nice, that I would truly dance with him, but we were distracted by a scuffle outside.

"Excuse me a minute," he said with a sigh, before disappearing from my side and out to the front of the barn. It seemed as though Tom had had a bit too much to drink and decided it would be the perfect time to confront another semi-intoxicated individual. I felt like I was at a UNC frat party. With a Confederacy theme.

I stood for a few minutes on my own, tapping my feet gently to the music. I liked it, it was folky and upbeat, and that type was always playing at my house. It also seemed there was supposed to be a certain dance for each song, as another one Started and people paired off into another dance. Sick of looking like an awkward loner, I wandered over to the refreshments table and got myself a drink.

"Hello, darlin'." I looked to my left to see a tall, burly guy looking down at me, a lopsided, somewhat predatory smile on his face. Frat parties had prepared me for this too. "I don't think I've seen you before." He looked like a typical farm boy – dusty hair, square jaw, dirty shirt.

"That would make sense," I replied, nodding. "Only got here a little while ago." Not interested, screamed my every pore, but he didn't read body language very well.

"What's your name?"

"Emma," I replied shortly, deciding to go for the line all girls who just wanted to be left alone went to. "Waiting for my boyfriend to come back, so…yeah."

"How's it you got a feller if you've only been here a little while?" He asked, giving me an annoyed look.

"It means she ain't interested, Tolbert," a dark haired guy said from my other side. He picked up a cup and took a sip. He was cute – brown hair swept across his forehead, wide brown eyes and a five o'clock shadow. While the tall one wasn't unfortunate looking, this one had a bit more charm to him.

"I think that's up for her to decide," the aforementioned Tolbert replied, taking a step closer to me. Instinctively, I stepped toward the smaller and less intimidating one.

"Nope, he's right," I said quickly. "Not interested. Thanks, though." Tolbert glared at the two of us.

"Fine by me, don't need no Yankee anyway."

If I was supposed to feel insulted, I didn't, and gave Tolbert a little wave as he stalked away.

"Sorry about my brother," the other guy said, as I turned to look at him. "He's a bit thick at times."

"Your brother?" I asked, eyebrows raised. "Wow, I hope you home life isn't affected much by that encounter."

"Nah," he said with an easy smile. "My other brothers can hold him off if needs be."

"How many brothers do you have?"

"Three older, two younger. And three sisters." What was it with these backwoods families and their insane numbers of children? "I'm Calvin, by the way."

"Emma," I said, giving him a smile. "And yes, I am a Yankee. Apparently that's a big deal to everyone."

"Sure is," he said with a grin. "But don't worry, we ain't gonna hold it against you. More like you're a novelty 'round here, is all."

"I think I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should." I looked at him and smiled, realizing he was flirting with me. And it wasn't in a creepy way like Tolbert, or in an over-the-top-so-didn't-mean-anything way like Johnse. And I found that I didn't mind that much with Calvin. It was nice to think that I might be interesting enough for boys to take notice, but also that I was fitting enough not to scare them away.

"So, Miss Emma," he smiled, "do you dance?"

"Unfortunately not when I don't know the steps," I admitted.

"Well, lucky for you then," he said, putting his cup down, "I'm an excellent teacher." I had to laugh at his charm, and that smile was hard to resist.

"Alright," I gave in, gathering my courage. "But just one."

One turned to five as Calvin attempted to teach me the steps to fast paced fiddle songs that came so quickly I had trouble figuring out where one song ended and the next began. I was out of breath from laughing and spinning – Calvin was actually a horrible teacher, and it turned out he didn't actually know the steps to most of the songs either, so we just kept getting in other people's way. But I didn't care – for the first time since I'd been here, I was having a lot of fun, not worrying about what other people thought, and letting loose. I didn't need to think about going home at the moment, and I liked it that way.

As the last song ended, I clapped my hands above my head in appreciation, before wiping the sweat from my forehead. Cotton skirts and shirts did not breathe well, especially when surrounded by dozens of other people wearing the same things. At least the guys could unbutton their shirts a bit. I rolled my sleeves up past my elbows, and pulled my hair up off the back of my neck, catching my breath.

"You wanna get some air?" Calvin asked and I nodded eagerly. Anything to cool down.

We went outside and Calvin led me over to a wagon that was parked near some hay bales. He reached in and grabbed a green glass bottle, pulling the cork out with his teeth.

"Want some 'shine?" he asked, taking a swig.

"Some moonshine?" I clarified. Of course, I knew what moonshine was, I was a college student in the south after all, but I had never had it.

"Don't they have that up north?" he asked, teasing.

"Not really, no," I replied, knowing the truth was too complicated to get into. Part of me knew it probably wasn't the best idea to accept alcohol from a complete stranger, but I doubted that they had invented roofies at this point in history. I was on an adrenaline high from the dancing, and a sip of moonshine would do much beyond helping me relax just a bit more. At least, that's what I told myself.

Taking the bottle from him, I took a quick gulp. The liquid burned all the way down my throat and I nearly gagged – it was disgusting. Calvin laughed at my reaction.

"You'll get used to it, Emma," he said sitting down on the hay. I sat down beside him.

"Let me try again," I said, determined to get at least something right. It was still disgusting, but I was prepared for the burning sensation this time. Lord, it was strong. After just two gulps, I could already feel my cheeks tingle.

"So, tell me about yourself Miss Emma," Calvin said, taking a sip for himself and leaning back against the bales, giving me a smile. "What bring you down to Mate Creek, West Virginia?"

"My parents died."

Calvin's smile faltered and he looked away, embarrassed. "I think you need this more than I do, then," he said, gently putting the moonshine back in my hand.

The conversation turned to lighter topics, and soon enough I was laughing again. That night was the first night since I arrived that I wasn't thinking about home, and whether it was the music, Calvin or the moonshine, I was finally Starting to accept that this is my new life.

"Emma?" Laughing at some ridiculous story Calvin had told me about his brothers, I looked up to Cap, was standing over us, seeming very unimpressed.

Calvin jumped to his feet, his laughter dying off somewhat.

"Hiya, Cap," I grinned up at him. He really was attractive, even with that scowl on his face.

"Hey, Cap," Calvin echoed, looking between the two of us and shifting on his feet. "You alright?"

"Is she drunk?" Cap asked, still Staring at me, his voice hard.

"I'm not!" I replied quickly, trying to stand. I honestly didn't think I was, but as soon as I wasn't sitting anymore the moonshine went straight to my head. Maybe I had had a bit more than I realized. With a sway and a "woo!" I stumbled into Calvin. "Okay, maybe a bit."

Anger flared in Cap's good eye. "You shittin' me, McCoy?" He growled, shoving Calvin back.

"Hey," I protested sadly. Then it clicked. "Wait…McCoy? Like, a real McCoy?"

"Watch it Cap," Calvin warned, his smile disappearing. "We ain't done nothin' wrong. Just havin' a bit of fun is all. She never said she was with you."

"Hey, do you know Roseanna?" I asked him, suddenly seeing a bit of a resemblance. Calvin's faced darkened.

"She's my sister."

"Come on, Emma," Cap said, and I saw what looked like sympathy cross his face as looked at Calvin. "It's time for us to get home."

"Oh, is it over?" I asked, realizing that I couldn't hear the music anymore. But Cap already had his arm around my waist and was guiding me away from the McCoy. "Bye Calvin," I said over my shoulder, waving at him. "Thanks for the dances."

"See ya 'round, Emma." And then he was lost in the crowd.

Cap led me deftly through the people, ignoring the Stares they gave us. Even in my tipsy state, I noticed, though, and was bothered by it.

"Why are they looking at us?" I asked, gripping his arm for stability.

"Cause we make quite a pair, you and I," he replied, looking down at me. "The drunk Yankee and the one eyed freak."

"I am not drunk," I repeated, though even I could hear the slight slur in my voice. Cap, however, didn't seem wholly amused with the situation, even if he was being nice to me.

"You'll forgive me for not believin' you."

"And you," I said, looking up at him with my most serious expression. "Are not a one eyed freak. You're a one eyed gentleman."

A flash of a smile crossed his face and I considered it a victory. We reached the wagon were Johnse was waiting with Nancy.

"Where's Robert E?" Cap asked, helping me get into the back of the cart.

"Went to stay at the O'Connell's. Enjoy your night, Miss Yankee?"

"Sure did," I replied, standing up in the back and surveying the dispersing crowd. "Even had my first taste of real West Virginia moonshine." Cap shot Johnse a look.

"From who?" the older brother asked, looking confused.

"Calvin McCoy," I responded, noticing immediately the look that passed between the siblings. "Only I didn't know he was Calvin McCoy at the time. Just Calvin, brother of Humbert."

"You mean Tolbert?" Johnse asked, trying not to smile. "Why Miss Yankee, you are three sheets to the wind, I reckon."

"What does that even mean?"

"It means," Cap said, stepping up into the wagon next to me. "That you best sit down and sober up before we get home, or Pa is gonna tan your hide."

Johnse suddenly looked a bit nervous. "Not to mention ours."