It had been almost a month since the night Johnse had been kidnapped by the McCoys, a month since I had spoken to Cap and at least a week since Levicy last asked me to cheer up some. Clearly, missing Cap was having some sort of affect on my enthusiasm towards housework, so she had taken to sending me on any random errand she could think of, just to keep me distract and out of the house. I even spent time at the lumber yard translating for some of the workers Herr Schmidt had sent down to move the timber. Cap was conspicuously absent on all my visits, and even his friends weren't speaking to me.
I tried to be pleasant and upbeat, but I missed Cap.
One morning, Levicy sent me down to Mate Creek to drop off some letters for Wall and pick up a package from the General Store. I was minding my own business, picking out some sweets for the kids, when a rather unpleasant and unwelcome figure came up beside me.
"Well, if it ain't the resident Yankee. Surprised to see you're still here Emma Anderson. Thought Devil Anse only let kin stay under his roof, judgin' from his habit of kicking out helpless young girls."
"Good morning, Nancy," I greeted dully, not letting myself rise to her bait.
"Is it? Must be for you, but for some of us it ain't nothin' but another day, strugglin' to get by." She looked down at the sweets I was buying, but the newest addition to my growing library, The Picture of Dorian Grey. "I do wonder where you get all your money. Some wealthy Northern relative making profit off the strugglin' South no doubt."
"No doubt," I agreed. Nancy frowned as I moved away from her and while I hoped she would just piss off, she followed me around the store, trying to get a rise out of me.
"Should prolly buy some medicine while you're at it You want to be charitable, you can send it along to my cousin Roseanna. Seein' as your such good friends and all."
This caught my attention, thought I was skeptical of any claims Nancy made. I glanced over at her. "What do you mean?"
"Don't know why you're interested," she replied, as if she hadn't been teasing me with information, hoping for a response. "Ain't like you Hatfields care nothin' for poor Roseanna. That girl's sick as a dog and ain't heard nothin' from her loving Johnse. Would hate to think she dies of a broken heart, poor girl."
"Roseanna's sick?" I clarified, trying to determine the truth through the bullshit.
Nancy shrugged as if she could care less about the well-being of her cousin. She seemed to get some twisted pleasure from messing with people, trying to make them squirm and I refused to give her the satisfaction.
"Was coughing somethin' fierce when I went up there yesterday. Stayin' with aunt Betty Blankenship seein' as she ain't welcome at her home no more. That's on account of you Hatfields, I would think. Wouldn't let her and Johnse get married. Real sad and cruel if you ask me."
"I didn't," I replied icily, as a lump in stomach grew. Roseanna was sick? I knew she was at her aunt's and I had written to her three times. I had gotten one letter in response. I swallowed a ball of guilt - my focus on Cap had prevented me from seeing Roseanna.
I had played the good houseguest for a while now and I had always believed it was better to ask forgiveness than permission. With forceful determination, I dropped the sweets and headed for the door.
"Always a pleasure, Nancy," I threw over my shoulder, before leaving her. I strode across the main road to where Orion was tethered, catching the eye of another familiar face.
"Well, howdy Miss Emma!" Tom Wallace greeted me as I practically ran past into the dusty street. "You're in a mighty rush, now ain't ye?"
His long strides brought him next to me quickly as I hurried off to Orion.
"Can't talk, Tom," I said, trying to brush him off. I was too upset to have this conversation, to chat easily with Cap's best friend as if nothing was wrong. And while he clearly sensed my annoyance, he pressed on.
"Now why ever not? I thought we's were friends," he asked, his tone amused with my hurriedness.
"We are friends," I replied, exhausted, as I mounted Orion and made to take off, but Tom held onto my horse's reins and prevented us from moving. "He doesn't like that," I reminded him, and Tom took a worried step away from the sharp teeth of the horse, but didn't let go of the leather. "Tom, please, I've got to get somewhere."
"And judgin' by the fact that you looked like you's ''bout to knock Nancy McCoy's teeth out, I'd say you need someone to talk to, too." My shoulders sagged involuntarily and he smiled, victorious. "Now why don't come down here and I'll buy you a drink and you can tell Ol' Tom all about it."
"Can't," I repeated. "I have to go."
"Go where?"
"If you must know," I replied smartly, knowing that nothing but the truth would get him off my back, "I'm going to see Roseanna McCoy at her aunt's house."
Tom, surprised, let out a low whistle and was suddenly serious. "Now, Emma, I don't think that's such a good idea."
"Hence the reason I didn't ask your opinion. Now, please let me go or I'll sick my horse on you."
He dropped the reins and allowed me to be on my way, but he didn't look happy about it. "Cap wouldn't want you goin' to Kentucky on your own," he called after me.
"Well, Cap doesn't control me," I responded over my shoulder. Or talk to me, for that matter, I thought, but quickly banished him from my mind.
"Ah, hell," Tom grumbled, and I fully expected to be in the clear, but then he called me out on the one flaw in my plan. "You even know where you'se goin'?"
Half an hour later, Tom 'Skunkhair' Wallace and I were riding side by side across the Tug, on our way to Betty Blankenship's house up in the hills. I had shown him the address Jim McCoy had given me, which I kept in my pocket, but rather than telling me where to go, Tom insisted he come along.
"Sides," he admitted after I shot him a withering look, "Cap'd skin me alive if he knew I'd let you wander off into the McCoy territory, 'specially after what happened to Johnse."
I had tried not to bring up the topic of Cap for as long as I could, but he was the one connection Tom and I had – there was only so much discussion of logging I could take. So, eventually, our mutual friend became the topic of conversation and I fought back the pain in my chest.
"How is Cap?"
"Aw, he's fine as could be," Tom replied, glancing over at me under his wisp of white hair. "Spends most nights at the tavern with the fella's and the girls." I swallowed hard and Tom quickly moved on. "Hear he's been staying with Jim Vance for a spell, only Jim don't have the most accomodatin' rooms."
He smirked slightly and I pictured a drunken Jim sleeping in a shack in the woods, much like Johnse's drip still, with just his dog for company. A part of me liked to think that Cap was staying in such uncomfortable living quarters – served him right for being such an ass – but a bigger part of me wished he wouldn't be around Jim so much.
"And now?" I asked, cautious to not sound so interested.
"Stayed with Alex Messer for a time, but I think he's gone 'round to Ellison's."
"I thought he'd be staying with you."
"I offered," Tom shrugged. "Only my house ain't the quietest now. The baby's makin' a right racket." He smiled affectionately and it hit me just how little I knew about Cap's best friend. I knew he was some years older, maybe just turned thirty and that he got his nickname from the streak of white hair on an otherwise deep brown scalp, but other than that…
"Baby? Tom, I had no idea you were even married. That's wonderful, congratulations. How old is he?"
His smile grew. "She," he corrected. "Bessie. And she's about four months. Ain't a big topic of conversation 'mongst the menfolk, to be fair. But my wife, Pattie, why if she ain't the best mother this side of side of them Blue Mountains. French and Cap and them would give me hell for gushin', but I ain't ashamed. Good thing to love your wife, ya know? You should come by for supper one day, Miss Emma. You'd like Pattie, she speak her mind just like you."
I grinned. "I'd like that Tom, thanks."
"And don't you worry none about Cap," he said, veering back to the earlier topic. "I know you two ain't speakin' at the moment by he'll come around sometime. Seems you two are just both stubborn as a pair of old mules, is all."
"I'm not worried," I protested, though he clearly didn't believe me. "Cap can do what he wants. I'm his friend not his mother."
"If you say so, Miss Emma."
We followed the road along the winding river and I enjoyed the crisp autumn wind, entertaining myself by blowing white puffs of breath. "How much further, Tom?"
"We got some miles to go, still, Miss Emma. Betty Blankenship is a bit of a spinster and lives far from most."
"Can we ride a bit faster then?" I asked with a grin, before kicking off into a gallop. Tom caught up with me quickly. I didn't want to talk about Cap anymore and was regretting bringing him up in the first place. It felt weird to know that he talked to his friends about me, while I had no one to confide in. I'd be lying if I said the trip to see Roseanna was purely to see how she was – I had some selfish motives as well.
Everyone needs a girl friend to talk to.
We arrived at Betty's house just after lunch. It was a small cottage on the outskirts of Belfry, Kentucky, which looked to me more like an abandoned rest stop than a town, but Betty's home was well kept, despite her living there as an old, single woman. Tom waited in Belfry, not wanting to upset the elderly McCoy and to give Roseanna and I some privacy.
"Less I know the better," he said, with a conspiratorial smile. "Far as anyone knows, you threatened to shoot me, 'less I showed you the way up here. That's my story and I'm stickin' to it."
So, he left me to face the McCoy women on my own. I wasn't worried about seeing Roseanna, but I still felt the twirl of nerves as I tied off Orion and approached the house. Would she be angry with me? Would she even want to see me? What would Anse say when he inevitably found out I'd visited her?
A petite, gray-haired woman who could only have been Aunt Betty open the door a few moments after I knocked and looked at me in confusion.
"Can I help you?"
"Yes, um, hello ma'am. I'm sorry to bother you but I was wondering if Roseanna McCoy is in? I'm Emma Anderson, I'm a friend of hers."
Betty's brows furrowed and she nodded as I spoke. "Oh I know who you are. And Roseanna's in the parlor. I'm sure she'll want to see you, long as you came on your own." She peered beyond me, scanning the glen for any sign of others.
"Johnse's not here," I offered sadly. "It's just me. No one knows I came." She raised her eyebrows at me, but opened the door and let me follow her into the house.
When the door shut behind me, I was enveloped in the warmth of the house: the crackling fire, the smell of freshly baked ginger biscuits and comfortably, homely décor that reminded me of Aunt Flo's place. I struggled to imagine being locked up here with no one else to talk to and shook the thought from my mind – it wouldn't help to pity Roseanna, at least not to her face.
The girl in question was sitting on a rocking chair in the parlor, knitting what looked to be a baby's blanket – a yellow thing with little flowers and stars decorating it. There was another girl sitting there with her, with light brown hair framing a pretty face. Roseanne looked up as I entered and I had to stop my jaw from dropping at the sight of her. The last I had seen Roseanna, she had been scared and stressed and frankly, looked like hell. But this waif of a girl in front of me, who was at least five months pregnant, actually looked like she had one foot in the grave.
"Emma?" She asked, standing up and coming to me, a smile lighting up her sunken face.
She was emaciated, as if she hadn't eaten since I last saw her, with deep circles under her eyes. Her long, usually lovely blonde hand was tied back, revealing some patches where bits had fallen out in clumps. She was incredibly pale and when she wrapped her arms around me, I could feel every bone in her body and could barely make out the baby bump. Nancy had said she was ill…but I hadn't expected her to look like this.
"What are you doin' here?" she asked and I forced a smile onto my face, trying not to freak out on Betty for letting the poor girl get this way.
"I wanted to come and visit," I replied, holding her hands and feeling like I needed to keep her from falling over. "To see how you were."
Roseanna smiled her genuine, kind smile, as if she had never had a visitor in her life and ushered me over to the chair.
"Well, can we get you a drink? Some tea? Betty just made some biscuits, I'm happy to get - "
"No, I'm fine, thanks," I replied quickly, though I was actually quite hungry. "Here, why don't you sit down."
Roseanna smiled again and sank back into her chair, while Betty went about making tea for us anyway. "It's so good to see you, Emma," she said, her eyes glistening. "I really missed you. This is my sister, Alifair," she said, motioning to the young girl next to her. "Calvin dropped her off on his way to Pikeville. How are the children? How's Robert E and Nancy? How's Cap?" She coughed into her hand, whether to cut her self off from asking about Johnse or because she was sick, I couldn't tell.
"Everyone is well," I replied casually. "Detroit is still a bit of a handful, and Nancy's been getting some letters from a boy named Rodney she met last year at the Election Day fair."
"Oh, that's comin' up soon," Roseanna grinned, some color coming back to her face. "It's always fun to get the whole area together. There's dancin' and pie contests and the boys all try to show off to the girls." Her face fell again as some memory came back to her. "That's where Johnse and I first met."
I felt awkward. I was never good in these situations and while I wanted to make Roseanna feel better, I wasn't quite sure how to do it.
"Alifair, would you mind helping me in the kitchen," Betty called from the other room.
The young girl got up and left the room. I realized this might be the only chance I had.
"Cap and I slept together," I blurted to Roseanna.
Roseanna blinked and the blush returned to her cheeks. "You mean, as a man and wife do?"
"Well, yeah, only we aren't married," I quickly clarified. "It was a while ago, just before…well, just before I saw you last. And I really didn't plan for it to happen, I mean, neither of us did, but it just sort of happened. In the barn. During a thunderstorm. Against a hay bale."
Had I been in the 21st century, these few details would have sent my friends into fit of giggles, demanding more information. But Roseanna simply looked horrified. I hadn't really been expecting that reaction.
"You ain't with child are you?" she whispered, like it was some terrible disease that would keep me locked away from society. Like her.
"No," I replied quickly. "No, I'm not. Riding the crimson wave as we speak, actually. But, anyway, yeah, so I needed to tell someone and you're the only one I know who wouldn't completely lose their shit." I smiled at her, trying to encourage some sort of positive reaction from her. She had always been on the Emma-Cap bandwagon, sending me winks across the dinner table when he sat with me, or arranging herself in a way that forced Cap and I to walk together.
"You need to be careful, Emma," Roseanna said, paling slightly as her hand fell to her small stomach. "You shouldn't until you'se married."
I swallowed, suddenly feeling like a complete ass. Of course this would be her reaction, why would she feel any differently? She did the same thing and look where it got her.
"Well," I said, rather deflated, "I don't think we have to worry about that, to be honest. We're not exactly speaking at the moment."
"What? Why?"
The concern on her face was heartbreaking – Roseanna cared so much for other people and yet kept getting screwed over herself. Life sucks, sometimes.
I told her the story of my fight with Cap – leaving out Johnse entirely, as well as the details of Devil Anse's desertion. I trusted Roseanna not to go shoot her mouth off, but not Betty and Alifair, who wandered back into the room and started doing needlepoint, pretending that they weren't listening intently.
"Oh, Emma, you didn't need to do that for me. That was mighty sweet of you to stand up to me, but you didn't have to." We both had hoped that someone else would stand up for her, but had been sorely disappointed in that area.
"But what do you think I should do about Cap?"
She sat back and thought for a moment and I was pleased to distract her from her problems, at least for a few minutes, even if mine paled in comparison. "Do you want me to be honest and truthful with you?" She asked and I nodded. "Well, you can be a bit brash, Emma. And I don't think Cap is used to being challenged like that. The only ones I've ever seen him bend to are his Ma and Pa, even all his friends follow his lead. He's not met someone like you before."
"So you're saying I should apologize? Be more amenable?" I didn't like the sound of that. My pride wouldn't allow the apology and my feminist side wasn't about to take any man's nonsense lying down.
"And apology might be nice, but it sounds like he owes you one too."
"He owes you an apology," I clarified.
"I made my choice," Roseanna said, her voice cracking a bit. "And now I have live with the consequences." Her hand fell to her stomach again and I felt a pang of annoyance.
"A baby isn't a punishment, Roseanna. It's a blessing. The miracle of life and all that. And if your family can't see that then they are idiots and you're better off with people who understand and want to help you. No offense," I added, glancing at her sister, who just looked nervous.
"It ain't that," she said quietly. "I…I could have been saved. I could've gotten married and had the baby and no one would have known…"
"Married? Married to who?"
"Perry Kline. He's a lawyer from Pikeville, a cousin of my Pa's. Offered to make an honest woman of me but I said no since…well, since I still love Johnse."
She croaked back a sob and a silence filled with unsaid words fell between us. I wasn't going to tell her what Johnse had said – that he still loved her, as well, but had given up all hope of them being together. Those words would have crushed her spirit and I couldn't do that to her.
The fire crackled and Roseanna took a sip of her tea. I watched her and looked at quiet old Aunt Betty and I suddenly wondered if this was the best place for her to have and raise her baby. Betty didn't look down on her and it was quiet and out of the way. If she were at her house, her father and brothers would make her life a living hell. Here, she could live a quiet life, have the baby and perhaps in a few years, the whole mess would be forgotten and she and Johnse could be together. It was possible, wasn't it?
"I'm going to try and visit as much as I can, Roseanna," I said, as she walked me to the door an hour later. "I'll come twice a month, whenever I can get away for long enough to make the trip."
"I'd really like that, Emma," she replied, smiling.
"And thank Betty for the tea and biscuits."
"I will. Have a safe journey back and…say hello to the children for me."
"I will, Roseanna. Take care of yourself."
I rode away from Betty's house feeling utterly exhausted. The adrenaline that I had when I arrived had been sucked dry upon seeing Roseanna and just how sickly she looked. I hoped that my visits would give her something to look forward to, something to keep her spirits up. Getting away from the Hatfields was going to take some doing, but I swore to myself I would do it.
"How'd it go?" Tom asked as I slid onto the barstool next to him when I got back into the Belfry. The saloon was practically deserted; save for a few lawyer-y types sitting at a table and sleeping drunk leaned up against the piano. I was the only woman, but didn't care. My meeting with Roseanna had thrown all my cares out the window.
"I need a drink," I grumbled, resting my chin on the wooden bar top, blowing some loose strands of hair from my face. Reaching over, I took his whiskey from in front of him and shot it down, wincing as it burned the back of my throat.
"Woo-ee," Tom whistled in amusement, but clapping his hand on the bar. "The Yankee girl can drink! Let's get two more whiskeys Paul," he said to the barkeep, who didn't seem too pleased with my antics.
"And some food, I'm starving," I added, suddenly wishing I had taken some ginger biscuits for the road.
"You Northern girls can hold your liquor and have some healthy appetites," Tom acknowledge, pleased. "Cap picked a good'un, that's for sure."
I rolled my eyes and shot the next whiskey that was put down in front of me.
"Best not be announcing that she's from the North," came some unsolicited advice from a table behind us. "Folks 'round here don't to take too kindly to Yankees, particularly ones so closely associated with the Hatfield clan."
Tom and I turned to see a short, squat man with a mustache smiling at us, his words sickly sweet and not at all friendly, despite the tone.
"Don't think we asked you, friend," Tom replied, looking to put an end to the conversation. The man in front of us reminded me of a toad, a self-important, meddling toad and it was clear he wasn't going to leave us alone, despite the warning in Tom's voice.
"Simply offering you some friendly advice, is all," he said, his smile widening. He laughed lightly to himself. "You see, I can't for the life of me determine just what Tom Wallace and the Yankee Hatfield girl would be doing all this way from Mate Creek and on the wrong side of the river."
"I'm not a Hatfield," I corrected him, having been corrected so many times myself. "And last I checked, it was a free country. We can come and go as we please."
"Forgive me, ma'am, I didn't mean any offense." He took my hand and kissed it, trying to be gallant while lying to my face. "Name's Perry Kline."
Well, it is a small world. "And I've suddenly lost my appetite," I muttered to Tom, who's scowl broke into a brief laugh.
"It doesn't reflect well on a young lady's upbringing to be rude to new acquaintances," Perry Kline commented, his skeezy smile still plastered to his face. "Though, I shall forgive you because of your unquestionably unfortunate upbringing."
Maybe it was that I was so mentally exhausted from my time with Roseanna, or the two shots of whiskey on an empty stomach, but I really was not having any of this guy's shit.
"Listen Perry, as much as I appreciate your 'friendly' advice, I'm really not in the mood to be talked down to or made to feel like a second-class citizen just because I don't drop my g's or spit tobacco or blackmail my vulnerable, pregnant cousins into marrying them or whatever it is you people do. I've just about had enough of your backwoods, misogynistic attitudes, so you can take your condescension and twisted sense of propriety and shove it up your ass. Come on, Skunkhair, let's go."
I threw some money down on the bar and stormed out, Tom following closely on my heels. As soon as we were out of the saloon, he burst into laughter, holding onto his knees to keep himself upright.
"You know," he said, wiping tears from his eyes, "I hope you and Cap make up soon, cause I can't wait to see you give him lip. "Gonna be mighty entertainin', that's for sure. Boy won't know what hit him."
I laughed. "You know, Peter Schmidt was right about Perry Kline. He is a scheisskopf."