(Calvin POV)

"Calvin, you've hardly touched a bite of your supper," Mama chides, leanin' between me an' Roseanna, and ploppin' a biscuit on my plate even though it's still over half-full, "What's troublin' you, darlin'?"

"Nothin', Mama. Just tired is all."

"You sure?"

"Course I am," I reply, hopin' with all I have that Mama will simply let me be, even though I know the only reason she's askin' in the first place is out of concern, "But I was thinkin' of turnin' in early tonight, so maybe tomorrow I feel more like myself."

"Just so long as you're not late helpin' your Poppy with the mornin' chores."

"I won't be, Mama. Promise."

"Reckon you'll be able to stop pinin' after that Rutherford girl to be any use to us in the fields, then?" Tolbert inquires, levelin' a look at me from across the table that has me almost convinced to kick him in the shin even though I know Poppy will notice almost immediately after the fact, "Ain't no good workin' wit' ya if you're distracted."

"It ain't like that, Tolbert."

"Like hell it ain't. She's holed up with them Hatfields, ain't she?"

"I'll thank ya not to be swearin' at my dinner table, Tolbert McCoy," Poppy cut in, his tone stern as he cut his eyes over to where Tolbert was sittin', apparently heedless of the impact his words might have, 'specially seein' as Roseanna and Mama both are blushin' scarlet, while Alifair stares at her chicken as though it's the most interestin' thing in the world, "An' you'll not be talkin' about a friend of the family like that, either. Ain't right."

"Is she a friend of the family anymore? Takin' care of one of them, when she's s'posed to be courtin' my brother—"

"She's takin' care of him 'cause she's got a good heart, Tolbert. That's all."

"Course you'd say that, Roseanna, she's your best friend."

"An' a good person, besides," My blonde, fair-skinned sister points out, honestly surprisin' me with her insistence on standin' up to Tolbert when in the past he always seemed to scare her off with just a scowl, "You know that in your heart, Tolbert. I know ya do."

Tolbert simply scoffed at Roseanna's words, his attention turnin' back to the biscuit he had been gnawin' on before settin' in on tauntin' me about Lanie, though I can tell he still has more to say. In spite of the fact that he's my brother, an' I know I really ought to be more tolerant of him and his hotheaded nature, however, I find that I am not entirely capable of doin' that in this particular moment, my eyes narrowin' a bit as I lean my elbows against the weathered wood of the dining table and ask my brother the question that has him meetin' my gaze once again with startlin' ferocity.

"You tellin' me I should give up courtin' her, Tolbert?"

"Why does it matter so much to ya what I'm tellin' ya? Not like you're gonna listen."

"How do ya know I ain't gonna listen if ya never tell me what it is you're thinkin'?"

"Boys—" Poppy warns, the timbre of his voice likely indicatin' that he's reached his limit with our bickerin', though that doesn't seem to be enough to stop Tolbert from replyin', regardless.

"I'm sayin' you should watch yourself with Lanie Rutherford. Them Hatfields have a way of wormin' under somebody's skin, and 'fore ya know it, you're on their side."

"Lanie ain't like that," I protest, aware of Mama's look of warnin', and choosin' to ignore it in spite of the reality presented by Poppy tensin' in his chair at the head of the table, "She's not gonna believe a word those Hatfields say 'bout us."

"Suit yourself. But don't come cryin' to me when your girl's got herself a blond haired, blue eyed suitor in a couple o' months."

"Ya know, Tolbert, just cause ya can't get a woman to look twice your way don't mean ya have to go—"

"Alright, now that is enough!" Poppy exclaims, bringin' one hand down on the wood of the tabletop so that it creates a reverberatin' thud that effectively silences the argument in seconds flat, "I'll not have ya arguin' like this. Makes ya no better than those demon Hatfields."

"But Poppy—"

"I mean it, Calvin. No more o' this goin' back an' forth 'tween you an' your brother, or you'll be answerin' to me."

With that simple utterance, Poppy scoots his chair back from the table, the legs makin' a resoundin' scrape against the floorboards that causes both me and Tolbert to wince. Though I have managed to avert my eyes, I can hear his footsteps clunkin' away towards the stairs, their heaviness givin' me no doubt in my mind that he is deeply upset. A part of me can't really blame him, seein' as up 'til this particular moment, our meal had been relatively peaceful. But still, a greater part of me is still smartin' at Tolbert's words regardin' Lanie, my brow creasin' a bit as a frown mars my features in light of the sudden turn our evenin' just took.

Mama seems to sense my distress almost immediately, her silent instruction to Roseanna an' Alifair to start clearin' the table only barely registerin' in my mind as I pick absently at the chicken that is now almost completely cooled on my plate. In next to no time, though, the seat that Roseanna has just left is occupied once again, the weight of Mama's hand comin' to rest against my forearm causin' me to jump just a bit, before I look at her straight on, and realize she's watchin' me with no small supply of concern.

"What is it, Mama?"

"I'm worried about ya, son," She admits, her fingers squeezin' my arm likely in a gesture that was meant to provide comfort, while a worried frown mars her otherwise neutral features, "It ain't like you to snap at your brother like that."

"I'm sorry, Mama."

"I'm not askin' for ya to apologize to me. I just want to know what's troublin' ya's all."

"Ain't it obvious?" I inquire, my hand seemin' to instinctively shove the plate of hardly-eaten food away from my place at the table, while I turn simultaneously to face my Mama more directly. "I'm worried 'bout Lanie."

"Do ya have any reason to think the Hatfields'll hurt her?"

"I—no. No, I don't think so."

"Are ya afraid she won't come back to us, then?" Mama persists, her brow furrowin' as she regards me with far more interest than I am particularly comfortable with, "Cause she will, son, I can promise ya that."

"She—she will?"

"Have I ever led ya wrong before?"

"No Mama. No, ya haven't."

"And I don't intend to start doin' so now. Your Lanie is perfectly safe, Calvin, an' I can promise ya she'll come back to ya. Is that clear?"

"Yeah, Mama. It's clear," I reply, forcin' a smile to my lips for her benefit, before scootin' my own chair back, and movin' to stand. "I best be off to see if Poppy needs anythin' 'fore bed."

"You're a good boy, Calvin," She calls after me, a strange, faraway look in her eyes the likes of which I ain't never seen before that causes me to hurry from the room perhaps a bit faster than I might've otherwise, "If Lanie's as smart as I think she is, she'll realize that, 'fore the end."

(Eleanor POV)

"You gonna eat that?" Will inquires, pointin' with one finger toward the remainin' bit of ham on the plate that's restin' on the bed between us, an' givin' me a look that has me suppressin' a smile before I reply.

"Nope. Go ahead."

"Ya sure? I don't want Mama gettin' after me for bein' rude."

"I won't tell her if you don't," I remark, shakin' my head as I watch Will tear into the ham with the ferocity of a man who hasn't eaten solid food for way too long for his likin', "I'm glad you're feelin' better."

"So am I. No offense, but I was getting' a bit tired o' soup an' milk."

Unable to resist a laugh, I reach forward to nudge the plate just a bit closer towards Will, my eyes rakin' over his features as unobtrusively as they can in the process. The colorin' has mostly returned to his face, even in spite of the white bandage that is wound 'round his head to cover the injured eye—and although I am very well aware of the fact that realistically, he still has a long way to go before he's fully recovered, I can't help but feel at least the smallest bits of relief that he has already made it this far, my eyes droppin' to the plate once again as I realize Will just caught me in the act of starin'.

"Somethin' the matter, Lanie?"

"N—no. Nothin's wrong—"

"Then why're ya blushin' so hard?"

"I'm not blushin'!" I protest, one hand flyin' to my cheek, so that I am nothin' short of chagrined when I discover that Will is, in fact, correct, 'bout the burnin' of my face, "You sure it's wise to be teasin' the one who's been takin' care of ya?"

"You're still here, ain't ya?" Will quips, a smile tuggin' at the corner of his mouth, and givin' him a far more rogueish look than I am entirely prepared to deal with, "Seems to me ya don't mind a little teasin' now and then."

"That's what you think."

"S'what I know."

"Well now I have a reason to be tellin' your Mama you're bein' rude," I tease, failin' to entirely suppress the smirk that tugs at the corners of my mouth in response to the brief look of abject horror that crosses my companion's features, "Ha. Gotcha."

"You won't tell Mama."

"I won't?"

"No," Will confirms, leanin' back against the pillows that are propped up behind him 'gainst the head of the bed, and foldin' his arms against his chest with a surprisin' amount of flair before elaboratin' further, "It's like I said. Ya like a little teasin' now an' then."

"Never said I liked it, Will Hatfield," I retort, standin' from my perch on the edge of the bed, and smoothin' my skirt before leanin' forward to reach for the now empty plate that rests in Will's lap, "But whether I do or don't, I'd better be takin' this back downstairs 'fore your Mama's done with the dishes."

"Ain't ya afraid she'll rook ya into helpin' her?"

"No, as a matter of fact, I'm not. An' even if she does, seems like it's the least I can do, seein' as your family's been givin' me room an' board for near 'bout a week now."

"They'll give ya room an' board for longer, ya know," Will mentions, somethin' in his expression seemin' to indicate that he might just be hopin' that's the case while he watches me prepare to leave the room, "They like ya. It'd take a blind man not to see it."

"Well I can hope they keep on feelin' that way, then," I state, turnin' to look over my shoulder at my patient, and sendin' him a faint smile before walkin' through the door and headin' towards the stairs…

Try though I might to deny it, there seems to be a part of me that's hopin' to get the go ahead to stay with the Hatfields for a bit longer, just as much as Will seems to want that very same thing.

…...

As it turns out, Will was right—I did end up helpin' his Mama do the last of the dishes, though I didn't mind it nearly as much as he made it seem like I would, the easy chatter that passed 'tween myself, and Levicy Hatfield bringin' a sort of ease to my mood that was about as unexpected as my Uncle's arrival not long after. In truth, it was a bit of a relief to see him, instinct causin' me to practically vault myself into his arms not five seconds after he had passed through the Hatfields' door. His answerin' laugh even seems to prompt a brief chuckle of amusement from Devil Anse Hatfield himself as he places both hands on my shoulders and holds me back at arm's length to look me up and down—

I s'pose he figures I might've changed in the time since I last saw him.

"Well, Lanie—ya seem to be holdin' up alright."

"I am, Uncle Elliott," I confirm, gently extractin' myself from his hold upon my shoulders, and glancin' at Levicy, who is standin' right next to him, "I—Will's doin' much better, too."

"That's precisely who I was comin' to check on. Maybe ya can get yourself a bit of a rest while I go upstairs with the boy's Mama?"

"I don't need rest, Uncle Elliott—"

"Would ya change your mind if I told ya there was someone outside in my wagon that I brought special to see ya?"

"Some—somebody special?"

"Why don't ya go out there an' see for yourself?" My Uncle suggests, a slight twinkle in his eye, even in spite of the slight frown that mars Levicy's otherwise open features. Naturally, I spend one brief moment contemplatin' exactly what that frown might mean—but before I can take too long thinkin' about somethin' that I really don't understand, impatience prompts me to take a few steps out of the front door, a high pitched squeal leavin' me as I realize exactly who is sittin' in the seat of my Uncle's wagon.

"Roseanna?"

"Hey there, Lanie," My friend calls out, one hand restin' on a wheel of the wagon while the other gathers her skirts so she can climb down to meet me without risk of fallin', "Gosh, I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, Roseanna," I confess, meetin' my friend halfway, an' pullin' her into as tight an embrace as I can muster. "You have no idea how much."

"They treatin' ya alright, here?" My friend inquires, almost immediately sensin' the way I tense at the suggestion that my hosts have been anythin' less than kind, and rubbin' my shoulder a bit as a means of soothin' my anxiety over her words. "I don't mean anythin' by it, Lanie, I just wanna see my friend in good spirits, is all."

"Of course they are. Roseanna, I promise you, I'm fine."

"Calvin misses ya."

"He—what?" I stammer, the surprise I am feelin' over Roseanna's hastily blurted words apparent in my tone, even though I really do try my best to mask it to avoid appearin' rude. "He misses me?"

"That's what he said the other day," Roseanna confirms, her cheeks reddenin' just a bit as she risks a glance at me, and notices that my own skin has pinked up a bit from what it was before, "An' anybody with eyes can tell he likes ya."

"Roseanna—"

"He does," She insists, movin' to stand directly beside me so that she can nudge my shoulder with her own, before we start walkin' towards the edge of the Hatfield's property with our arms linked together. "An' Mama an' Poppy approve as well."

Unsure exactly what to say in response to such a thing, I settle for squeezin' Roseanna's arm lightly with my free hand, my happiness at seein' her at least for the moment outweighin' my apprehension at the thought of what she seems to believe is a certainty. Truthfully, I really don't find the prospect of courtin' Calvin McCoy to be all that distasteful; in fact, it seems to be precisely the opposite. But even with that thought in mind, I can't entirely shake the way my stomach is turnin' over as I recall exactly how Levicy Hatfield's features had stiffened upon realizin' my Uncle had brought a McCoy to her house.

If I do start courtin' Calvin, will she ever trust me with her son again?

In response to the very thought of not bein' able to help Will finish the period of his recovery, my entire body seems to have gone cold, the realization that goosepimples have broken out on the skin of my arms causin' me to stop walkin' almost immediately. Instinctively, I give a small shiver, my teeth comin' out to worry at my lower lip while I remove my arm from its place linked through Roseanna's so that I can rub the fabric of my sleeves against my skin in hopes of generatin' warmth. As soon as I do so, of course, I realize that Roseanna is comin' to an almost immediate halt as well, her brows furrowin' in what I can only interpret as concern as she reaches out once again to place her hand in mine.

"Lanie, you've gone pale as a sheet!"

"I'm fine—"

"Don't you think for one second I'll be believin' that," My friend scoffs, her fingers threadin' through my own so that she can give my hand a small squeeze before goin' on, "What's the matter?"

"I just—I'm not too sure if I'll be able to keep tendin' to Will if the Hatfield's know I'm courtin' one of your brothers," I manage, surprisin' myself with my honesty, even though I know that Roseanna will not fault me for tellin' her what I am actually thinkin'. Now, more so than ever, I am extraordinarily grateful for such a thing, particularly as I know I would be absolutely beside myself if anythin' should ever stand in the way of our friendship. And although I know, judgin' by the way in which her brow is still furrowed, that my words have troubled her, I have absolute trust in the fact that Roseanna will understand my concern, even if she can't exactly support the thing I'm doin' that led it to become an issue in the first place.

"Then we don't tell them."

"Roseanna—"

"Well how hard would it be?" She persists, folding her arms across her chest, and fixin' me with a look of such determination that I am honestly stunned into silence, "People already know we're friends, so they wouldn't question your Uncle bringin' ya 'cross the Tug every now an' then, would they?"

"I don't think so, no," I agree, my own brow furrowin' as I mull over what my friend has just told me, and come to the conclusion that she seems to be headin' along the right track—somethin' that she, herself, has also realized, if the slight smile she wears is any indication.

"An' the same can be said for if Calvin and I decide to come and visit ya ourselves."

Utterly at a loss for anythin' to say to contradict Roseanna's supposition, I settle instead for a simple nod of acknowledgement, while some small part of the weight that felt like it had been plaguein' my chest surprisingly enough fades away. She's right, of course—I know she is, even though mere moments before, I was fit to be tied when it came to thinkin' up a way to keep my friendship with Will Hatfield intact, without offendin' Roseanna or her family in the process. And although some small part of me—perhaps the wiser part—is still at least slightly apprehensive over exactly what it is I'm contemplatin', I cannot entirely bring myself to regret the slight easin' of nerves that I experience as I allow Roseanna to take my arm once again, and we continue walkin' 'round the perimeter of the Hatfields' land.

No matter how foolish my desire might be, I know now more than ever that I will do anythin' I can to avoid losin' either of my friends to a feud that should never have started in the first place…

Well hello there, my dears, and welcome to a delayed, but hopefully still enjoyable new chapter! I am so, so very sorry for taking so long to circle back to this story, amongst all of my other muses (who were being rather rude about taking up all my time, lol). But I do hope that in that delay, I haven't lost all of you as readers, because I can promise that I am absolutely nowhere near finished with Lanie's tale!

As you can see, I did something a little different this time with regards to adding Calvin's POV to the start of this chapter—and I hope that wasn't too jarring because I have to confess it's what got me inspired to start writing this little snippet to begin with! Of course I am open to any and all opinions regarding further explorations into the POVs of other characters, versus just keeping it strictly to Lanie's POV. But at least for the purpose of this segment, I hope you enjoyed what you found!

Like always, my heartfelt thanks go out to each and every one of you that has taken the time to read, follow, favorite and review this story so far (and special thanks to my reviewers from last chapter: phoward, and Guest)! I truly do appreciate the support, and I cannot wait to hear what you think of this chapter! Please don't hesitate to leave your thoughts! :D

Until next time, dolls…

MOMM