*Author's Note*

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4th of July, 1882 Pt. 2

Cap POV:

I was wit' Skunk Hair leavin' the shootin' gallery with our boys, lookin' to find Allie and Vera, whenever we saw Shaw fightin' with his sister over Billy McCoy. What took me aback was how he hauled off an' smacked her 'cross the face after she screamed that she hated him an' wished her mom was there instead of him. With all of my cousin's insistence that he wasn't like Peter, well witnessin' him smack his sister made him seem like a hypocrite.

"Seems like all hell's breakin' lose in his house." My best friend told me as we watched Shaw drag his sister over to where Jessa and Endor was at on a blanket with their other kids playin' nearby.

"Yea, reckon so." I nodded, watchin' Shaw snappin' at his wife to get the kids into their wagon. He was still holdin' onto his sister's arm wit' an iron clad grip too. "We better get back to our women an' tell them what's goin' on." I told Skunk Hair as we watched Shaw sling his sister off to the side 'fore marchin' off to find his brother. Poor Mary tripped an' fell onto the picnic blanket tat belonged t'her family. She was snifflin' an' rubbin' tears out of her eyes as she began to fold up the blanket.

"Hell, reckon somebody's already ran on ov'r to 'em an' told them. Lotta tongues be a wagglin' 'bout this." My best friend told me as we walked off towards the direction we knew our wives would be at, the booths with crafts and trinkets.

"True, Shaw's antics always cause tongues to waggle."

"I reckon Devil Anse'll get on Sully's ass 'bout controllin' him some."

"Yea, pa'll have a few choice words for Sully." I nodded in agreement, knowin' that my pa was gonna tear into Sully 'bout Shaw's wild temper. Shaw slappin' Mary at a public event made our family look bad.

"Look, there's Selkirk's wife talkin' with our wives." My best friend pointed out, sounding amused that our kin was already gosspin' 'bout Shaw.

"Guess she's tellin' 'em all 'bout Shaw's outburst." I chuckled as we made our way over to the women.

"I'll talk more with ya'll later. Bye." Louisa, Selkirk's wife, told Allie and Vera 'fore walkin' off. No doubt she was gonna find some other of our women kinfolk an' friends to share the details 'bout Shaw's outburst wit'.

"Cap, did ya hear 'bout what Shaw did to Mary?" Allie asked as me and Skunk Hair came up to her and Vera.

"No, we'd seen it." I answered, causin' both Allie and Vera to go wide-eyed.

Vera's brown eyes widened as she gasped, "Oh no, ya'll really saw him hit her? Oh, that poor girl."

"Yea, Vera, we really saw it." Skunk Hair nodded solemnly.

"I just hope Jessa keeps him from hitting the kids." Came tumbling out of Allie's mouth.

"I doubt it." I dryly told my wife.

"Yea, seems like when he's drunk and mad, he just swings." Skunk Hair added in, backin' up my remark.

"He was drunk?" Vera asked in a tone that portrayed she wasn't too surprised to hear that he was.

"He didn't look it, but Billy accused him of bein' drunk so…" I answered with a shrug.

"If anyone knows a drunk it's a McCoy considerin' that's all the men in that family are." Allie firmly remarked. She was right tho, if a McCoy said you're a drunk then you're a drunk. Drunks know their own kind.

Sully POV:

I wasn't near the whiskey carts or the food court so I didn't witness my son's fight with his sister, but I sure was bombarded by recounts of it by so many people. Oh my god, people were comin' up to me just to tell me that they thought Shaw was horrible for slappin' Mary in public; that things such as that should happen at home. Others told me they felt it was horrible how my son couldn't handle his sister and others told me that Shaw was a family embarrassment.

I was leanin' by a tree far off from the festival, hiding out from everyone, whenever Devil Anse walked up to me. Well, seems that he's going to give me a lecture about my boy. I can just imagine what he's going to say too.

"Sully, I take it you've heard 'bout the scene your boy caused." My cousin stated, not asked, as he came to a stop right next to me. His pipe was danglin' from the corner of his mouth and his hard timbre was colder than usual. Oh yea, I was in for it. I just nodded at Anse, knowing that he was waiting for it as a que to start his lecture. Takin' his pipe out of the corner of his mouth, he sighed, "You've got to get a better hold on that boy of yours, Sully." Shaking his head, he gave me a pointed. "He's an embarrassment to this family. His stunt, screaming and slapping his sister in a crowded area during a holiday event, has everyone talkin'; lookin' down at our family too." Of course, he was upset that Shaw made the Hatfields look bad.

"Mary was conversing with Billy McCoy. Considering everything that boy's brother did to Shaw, I'm not surprised he lost control with his siter." I countered my cousin since I didn't like that he was blaming my son for making our family look bad. Truth be told, our family did that without my son's help.

"Shaw had a right as Mary's guardian to yell and her, hit her too if he wanted, but behind closed doors. Such things aren't condoned in public, especially when it makes our family look like impulsive brutes; causes us to be gossiped about like a trashy nickel novel."

"I'll talk to him in a few days, Anse, once he's had time to calm down." I told Anse, hoping it'd pacify him and he'd go off to find Levicy. Lord knows those two are always glued to the hip at social events.

"If you were any sort of father, you'd march your ass to your son's house and give him a talkin' to now, now later when the stunt's behind him an' no longer fresh in his mind." Anse coldly told me, his tone portraying that he disapproved of my parenting skills.

"I know my son better then you, so when I say I'll give him a few days to calm down before I talk to him then that should be enough for you." I knew that Shaw must be drowning in some sort of guilt since he hit Mary, doing what Peter used to do to him, Peggy, and his siblings growing up. Anse didn't understand, like I did, that Shaw's going thru a traumatic event right now and needs Jessa's support right now; not me lecturing him.

I didn't give Anse a chance to talk, just walked off and left him standing by himself.

Tolbert POV:

Zeke's ranch in Texas was huge. It was a few miles outside of El Paso, a very large an' pop'lated town on the Rio Grande (right 'cross from the border of Mexico). After comin' to his ranch, Sunset Range, I fell into a routine of muckin' barn stalls for the horses an' watchin' after cattle as they grazed in pastures. When I had free time, I found myself talkin' wit' Jose Luis and some of the other hands in the bunkhouse. I was more friendly wit' the stout Mexican cook tho. He was widowed (rumors 'round the ranch was that he killed his wife, but I dunno for sure…) an' had some sons. All whom lived in El Paso an' were married. Seems none of 'em wanted to follow into his footsteps an' work on a ranch. One owned a cantina in town while the other two worked for him. Comical, right. All the men in Jose Luis' family were cooks for their livin'.

Zeke was a good boss; man too. He lived in the big house that was a short ride front the entrance gate. The house was large, larger than anythin' I'd ever seen back in Eastern Kentucky. Hell, it made Perry Cline's house like tiny. Zeke had a person cook an' housekeeper, whom I also think warms his bed as well. By the size of his house it was clear that cattle ranchin' made a hefty profit.

Since it was the 4th o'July, Zeke was holdin' a large bar-b-que on his ranch. Lots of town's folk showed up, includin' Jose Luis sons, 'long wit' their wives and chil'ren. Hell, Jose Luis was a gran'pappy to a lotta chil'ren. So many that I lost count. One person that showed up (wearin' half-decent clothes might I add) was Mindy. Honestly, I wasn't expectin' the whore (even tho she was most likely Zeke's daughter) to come all the way to El Paso for a 4th o'July bar-b-que from Dodge City, even tho she most likely came by train.

I was sittin' at a table ettin' some brisket an' baked beans, watchin' some kids run 'round an' play wit' pinwheels, when Mindy came up t'me. "Why hello, cowboy."

"Hi." I simply greeted her 'round a mouthful o'food. "What brings ya 'ere?" I asked after swallowin' my food.

Placin' a plate on the table 'long wit' a glass (full o'whiskey an' not lemonade or tea by the light amber color of it) an' takin' a seat next to me, she dryly said, "Sittin' to eat my bar-b-que, cowboy."

"No, Mindy, I mean why're ya in El Paso when yer work's in Dodge City?" I asked as she picked up her fork, spearin' a few slices o'brisket.

"I decided to move out of Dodge since my debt's now paid in full to the creditors my late husband owed to." She answered, ettin' her forkful o'brisket.

"Ah…" I nodded, pickin' up my glass o'whiskey an' sippin' it.

Spearin' some more meat wit' her fork, she told me in flat tone, "Zeke or Jose Luis already told ya 'bout Edson's gamblin' debts I take it."

"Yea, they did." I nodded, placin' my glass down an' pickin' up my fork.

"Did they tell ya that Zeke's most likely my pa, despite my mama bein' a whore and havin' laid up with every man from here to kingdom come?" She curiously asked me as I et a forkful o'baked beans.

After swallon' my mouthful o'food, I honestly answered the rough an' gaunt lookin' blonde wit', "They didn't tell me, but I heard Preacher Wells in Ogallala make a remark to Zeke 'bout losin' his boy; put two an' two t'getha."

"Martin was my twin. Died too young." She solemnly sighed 'tween ettin' her food. Placin' down her fork an' pickin' up her whiskey glass, she scoffed, "Hell, who'd think he'd be dead at 30 from gettin' snake bit. He'd been on the drive countless times only to get done in by a rattler now.", 'fore takin' a large gulp from her glass.

Ah, so the whore was a couple years older than me. I nev'r would've guessed since her rough lifestyle made her appear older than her years. Suddenly, a thought I shouldn't 've had popped into my dead an' 'fore I could stop myself I boldly asked, "Ev'r have any chil'ren."

"Yes." She nodded, Takin' a sip of her whiskey, she clarified, "A boy named Eden wit' my late husband. He's back east in military school in New York."

"Why?" I asked since I didn't see the point in why she wouldn't have her son livin' wit' her.

"Cause after listening to Zeke's endless war stories he wanted to go to military school." She explained, settin' down her glass. Wit' a wistful smile, she went on t'explain, "He's in Zeke's alta mater, West Point Military Academy Prepatory School. Once he's old 'nough he'll go to the West Point Military Acadamy; learn things needed to become an officer."

"Oh, ain't that somewhere up north?" I asked since last I heard it was. Where I was from the north wasn't a place most people liked. My family didn't share those vies considerin' my Uncle Harmon fought for the Union (even tho poppy fought for the Confederatecy).

"New York, by the Hudson River."

"Ah." I nodded, shovin' a forkful o'food into my mouth.

"Do you have any chil'ren, Tolbert?" She curiously asked me. I think she might've guessed I did by how old I looked, but who knows.

"One, a 7-month old son. Endor John." I simply answered her.

"Oh. Is his mama a whore, is that why he ain't wit'cha?" She had the audacity t'ask.

"No, his mama ain't now whore. She's my ex-common-law wife. She's married to the man that gave me my neck scar in an attempt on my life."

"If she's married to him then how do you know the baby's yours? Ya'll are exes; for all you know it could be her husband's boy."

"Boy's got my red hair an' blue eyes. Her husband don't got red hair nor blue eyes."

"Does he have Irish heritage? If so, then he's bound to have somebody in his family with those traits. Traits which might be dormant, but easily passed onto his chil'ren."

"Don't ya dare play devil's advocate an' try t'explain why my son might be that Vance Bastard's." I seethed dangerously low at the blonde whore (well guess she's a former whore now) as I gave her the hardest look I could wit' my stormy blues.

Knowin' she ov'r stepped her boundaries, Mindy just nodded an' quietly et her bar-b-que.

Allie POV:

The sky was a dark velvet color and everyone was sitting on blankets, necked craned up as they waited for the fireworks to start. I was sitting on a blanket next to my husband. My daughter, who was just days away from turning one, was on my lap lookin' around curiously while Captain W. sat on my husband's lap eagerly watchin' the sky for the colorful fireworks. Vera and Skunk Hair were sitting next to us with their children sitting in their laps, lookin' at the sky too.

"Where's the fireworks, papa?" Captain W. asked impatiently, lookin' between the dark sky with twinkling stars and his daddy.

"They'll start in a lil bit, son." Cap assured the little boy in his lap, pattin' him assumingly on the shoulder.

"That's what my pa said long time 'go." T.W. whined from his place in Skunk Hair's lap, causin' both me and Vera to just let out silent chuckles and shake our heads.

"Daddy says that I can sit with you if I want." Cotton announced as he appeared next to our blanket (that was a couple down from the blanket Ellison was sharing with Devil Anse, Levicy, and their year old son.

"Have a seat next to me, Cotton." I smiled at him in my motherly tone, gesturin' with my hand for him to come over between me and Vera.

"Okie dokie, Allie." Cotton said enthusiastically before coming over to my side. Vera and Skunk Hair scooted over slightly, makin' room for my simple-minded cousin-in-law to sit down. "I love the fireworks. I can't wait for them t'start." Cotton happily rambled, his eyes goin' to the sky as he waited for the show to start. Before anyone could say a word, a loud pop rang out accompanied by a burst of colorful yellow-green light appearing in the sky. Cotton clapped his hands as he excitedly exclaimed, "The fireworks started!"

"Look, papa, a blue one!" Cap W. pointed to the sky, a big smile on his face.

"I like green ones!" T.W. blurted out, makin' us adults chuckle, as a green firework appeared in the sky right after the blue one died out.

I couldn't help but to smile as my family watched the fireworks. It was such a carefree moment; one I knew we might not have the opportunity to have again dependin' on how things go during election day.

Jessa POV:

Instead of watching the fireworks with my family, I was sitting next to my husband on our bed having a bare my soul moment. Actually, I had started off the session with telling Shaw about the first time I knew my mom was different. I was 5 and she hadn't gotten out of bed in over a month; ate my entire box of 94 count of Crayola Crayons too.

Now I was silently waiting for my husband to take his turn; tell me something about Peter from his childhood. I wasn't being pushy, quite the opposite really. Reckon I had all night to wait since I didn't have nowhere to be.

"My father was the meanest drunk, but the nicest man when sober." Shaw told me, breaking the silence in the room with a rough tone to his deep timbre. "He always got mean when he drank likker; I always knew when he was drinkin' likker verses ale cause that's when he'd start callin' me a damned bastard, a mistake, an' start screamin' at my mom." I didn't say a word, just placed a supportive hand of my husband's shoulder as a way to let him know that I was there; that he could continue telling me about Peter. "Whenever she'd tell him that if she knew he'd drink so bad she would've raised me a bastard in the Hatfield clan he'd backhand her so many times; so bad til she hit the floor. Then he'd go after me, giving me a few whacks 'fore passin' out either in his bed or on the sofa." Shaw finished, his deep tone detached and shaky from the memory he'd shared.

Placing my hand on his cheek and turning his head so that he'd look at me, I softly told him, "See, honey, you're nothing like him. You've never hit me or the kids, even when I brought up my disapproval of your drinking."

"I never hit you or our kids, but I hit Mary. I had a few pulls from my flask too…Got angry by her screaming hurtful things at me." He sadly sighed. Before I could make a sympathetic remark, Shaw took me aback by saying, "I was 6 or 7 when I started to look 'round the house for all the hiding places Peter had his whiskey bottles so that I could pour them down the drain. I foolishly thought that if I got rid of the corn likker then he'd be nice 'gain, like he was when he ran out of his liquid gold and couldn't drink." He shook his head and let out a bitter scoff, "It work 'fore 'bout a week or so til he figured out all the bottles he was buyin' were dissapearin' before he even had a chance to drink them." He blinked back unshed tears as he revealed, "He ranted and raved, wantin' to know where his whiskey went and my mom took the fall for me. She told him she dumped 'em out so he wouldn't be drunk every night which caused him to fly into a rage and beat her bloody." Shaw leaned closer to me, resting his head on my shoulder, as he cried, "That beatin' was meant for me, but she took it instead. It was so bad that my father had to fetch Doc to patch my mom up." I just ran my fingers thru his shoulder length golden-brown hair as he bitterly let out, "My father told Doc that my mother had a nasty fall down the stairs of our apartment while going back to the diner to get something she forget. Whether Doc believed it or not I'll never know, but the Sherriff was never called and neither was Judge Wall." His voice shook with emotion as he told me, "I was too scared to tell on Peter after seeing him beat my mom bloody. Sadly, she was a month or so pregnant and had a miscarriage." In a bitter sigh, he told me, "Of course after the miscarriage my father got sober for a few days, just long enough to care for me and my mom properly." Shaking his head incredulously, Saw spat, "My father took me to Charleston to an ice cream parlor to cheer me up. He acted so nice, but it was only cause he was sober. I knew once he was drunk, he'd get mean 'gain, but sadly I didn't care. I was just happy to get ice cream since the only place to get it was in the big cities and capitals where large parlors had icehouses in order to store the churned homemade ice cream and sorbets it." As an afterthought, Shaw quickly added in a chuckle, "Peter let me pick whatever I wanted. I got a strawberry sundae; my father got the same thing. We at a table right by the large front window that had Charleston's Fresh Churned Ice Cream boldly painted in a large scrolling letters. He actually talked to me about how there wasn't such things as ice cream parlors when he was a boy. That only the rich, such as royalty and the president could afford such a luxury." Okay, so in a fucked-up way Peter was nice and fatherly to Shaw when he was sober. Shit…that's bananas…

Shaw didn't say another word after that, just burried his head into my chest and sobbed. It was clear to me that memories he shared hurt him; made him break down. I just held him and soothingly ran a hand up and down his back in an attempt to calm him.

Well, Happy 4th of July…

AN:

Hope you guys liked this chapter. Do you think talking about his father (Peter) and his childhood is going to heal Shaw or hinder him? Anyways, what do you think about Sully and Devil Anse's talk?

Next up will be a talk between Mary and Jessa about Billy. How do you guys think that'll go?