*Author's Note*

Thank you for the favs, follows, and reviews.

I originally opened up my word doc in order to work on the next chapter of The Rowdy Redhead & His Soiled Dove, but my muses had other ideas since all my ideas were for this story instead. Hopefully tomorrow I can get some work done on my other story, lol.

Merriweather's Investigative Assignment

Asa POV:

I was sittin' at my desk, which was one of many on the crowded floor of the office in The Examiner, brainstormin' ideas for my next article, which was due on the editor's desk in a few days, whenever said editor came up to my desk with a slip of paper in his hand. "Asa, you've got an investigative assignment for the paper." My editor, Arthur, told me as he held the slip of paper out to me.

Taking it, I asked, "What's the assignment, Art?"

"An expose of Devil Anse Hatfield, the rival of Mr. McCoy, who was the front-page expose featured in the New York Globe's Monday edition a few days ago."

"What? I have to travel for this story?" I asked, astonished that I was picked for a traveling piece that was meant to one up our paper's Eastern rival since I didn't have tenure like some other reporters did. I was still fresh faced in The Examiner even tho I worked hard and got many promotions over that last few years.

"Yes, you'll be traveling to Mate Creek in Logan County, West Virginia for this much needed piece." My editor confirmed with a nod. A wiry smirk appeared on his face as he chuckled, "Devil Anse must be either a fan of our paper or your work cause he requested you to interview him specifically."

"Oh wow…" I gasped, both shocked and honored to be requested by name to do an interview. I didn't think I was that important of a journalist, but apparently, I am.

"Go on home, pack, and say your goodbye to your family cause both you and Brady are Charleston bound on the next train, which leaves in a couple of hours." MY editor told me before walking away from my desk and going back to his office.

I looked at the slip of paper in my hand, only to discover that it was a train ticket with an scrap, that had an address scribbled on it, wrapped 'round it. Well, looks like me and one of the many photographers that worked for the paper were goin' to be getting our first be break. With an excited smile on my face, I pocketed the ticket, stood up, put on my hat and jacket, and collected my things before leaving the office.

Olga POV:

My life here in San Fransico's been more than I could ev'r ask for. I cherished my husband an' our chil'ren, 2-year-old Amora an' month old Arlington. Arlington, like his older sister, was adopted from the catholic orphanage. His adoption, which happened recently, was the reason for me retirin' from my job as a nurse. Ev'n tho I loved nursin', I loved motherhood more an' wanted t'raise my chil'ren instead o'dependin' on the housekeeper. In fact, once I retired, I fired the housekeeper an' took up the duties o'keepin' house an' raisin' my chil'ren myself.

A decision I don't regret.

I'd just put the chil'ren down for their after-lunch nap when my husband walked thru the door, worryin' me cause he nev'r came home til well 'round supper time. I quickly rose from my chair an' set my needle work to the side, only t'frantically rush ov'r to Asa's side. "What's wrong? Why're ya home so soon for, dear?"

"Arthur, my editor, gave me a front-page expose assignment." Asa smiled brightly.

"Okay, but why're ya here instead of our doin' your story?" I asked, my row arched up in confusion.

"Cause I need to pack a bag since the assignment's out East." My husband told me in a light, matter-o-fact tone.

My brows knitted deeply. "Out East? Why so far away for?"

"I'm doin' an exclusive interview with Devil Anse Hatfield for the front page off the paper since a few days ago our competitor the New York Globe ran a front-page expose interview with Mr. McCoy about the Hatfields killing his sons and neighbor. Apparently, both my editor and Devil Anse himself want his side of the blood conflict told in a highly regarded paper."

My eyes widened an' my breath stopped for a mere moment at what I heard come out o'my husband's mouth. No, no, no!

"What? Dear Mary mother o'god, ya can't go there! Ya can't, those Hatfields are horrible people!" I frantically shouted, on the verge o'tears since I didn't want Asa to take this job.

"You know them?" He asked, his brows quirked a bit.

"I ran away from Devil Anse's cousin, Shaw." I admitted, my eyes driftin' to the floor wit' unshed tears poolin' 'round the edges.

"Oh…" My husband sighed half-heartedly 'fore wrappin' his arms 'round me. Tiltin' my chin up wit' his knuckles an' lookin' me in the eye, he told me, "My lovely Olga, I'm so sorry that you suffered at the hands of that family, I truly am, but I've got to take this assignment. It's so big that it'll boost my journalism career so high that one day I could be a copywriter or editor; hell, even run my very own paper."

"It's just one story. It won't make your career."

Asa's eyes narrowed at me as he spat out in a hurt way, "Olga, don't be so selfish. Think 'bout me for one minute and you'll see what a big opportunity this is."

Seein' my husband's feelin's hurt bothered me. So much so since all he's ev'r done is put me first an' just wants the same in return. I wanted to support my husband's latest career venture, but truthfully, I couldn't. Not in the way that he wanted. So, I relented wit' a bitin' sigh of, "Fine, go to Mate Creek to interview the devil, but don't write me when ya get shot or nearly killed by those people.", 'fore stormin' off into the sittin' room t'get back t'my needlework.

Tolbert POV:

I was in Zeke's office, Monday's copy of the New York Globe's front page held tightly in my hand as I argued why I was needed back east instead of on the upcomin' cattle drive. "But, Zeke, this article this fuckin' prick T.C. Crawford wrote's gonna lit a fire under ev'ry bounty hunter's ass, endangerin' my son an' ex-wife."

"Tolbert, I sympathize for ya, I do, but I can't let you go back to Appalachia when I need you on the drive."

"But, Zeke-" I began only for the older man t'cut me off wit' a stern look an' the order of, "You're one of my best cowboys, Tolbert, so you're goin' on the drive. Stop sulkin' and worryin' 'bout those ya left 'hind out East." My eyes turned into narrow slits an' I snorted. How can he tell me t'stop sulkin' an' forget my son an' woman in such a careless way? Bastard, thought he'd understand me wantin' t'protect my son cons'derin' he lost his. "Don't look at me like that. I ain't budgin', you're goin' on the drive wit' the rest of the outfit come Friday an' that's final."

"Fuckin' horse's ass." I grumbled under my breath as I turned t'leave.

I started to storm ov'r to the door, only to stop an' turn 'round whenev'r Zeke's deep voice filled his office wit' the advice of, "You gotta put your personal feelin's aside, Tolbert, when you're a cowby. 'Specially when you're runnin's a ranch." He poured himself a drink while addin' in, "So, ya remember that cause if not, when you finally do get your own ranch in Tulsa it'll fail cause the cattle come 'fore anythin' in your life." Takin' a sip of his whiskey, the older man, who was sorta like a father figure t'me, ended his advisory speech wit' the low bitin' remark of, "Cattle's money; the more get driven the more money's t'be made, meanin' the ranch stays yours an' don't get auctioned off for back taxes cause believe me, son, taxes on a ranch spandin' hundreds of acres ain't cheap."

"So, I can't worry 'bout my family til winter's what yer sayin'." I stated, not asked, since that's more or less what I concluded from his advice.

Zeke's face turn serious, but his eyes held a father-like softness in 'em as he told me, "Tolbert, if you truly wanna run your own ranch someday soon then ya need to focus more on bein' a cattleman and less on your family, despite how hard it seems."

"Once I get my own ranch, I'm gonna go back for my family; bring 'em bac 'ere." I firmly told Zeke 'fore goin' ov'r to the door.

As I walked out the door, I swore I heard my boss sigh under his breath, "So ya say."

Jessa POV:

Cotton was outside playing with the kids while I was inside doing some spring cleaning. I just finished cleanin' the kitchen (not a deep clean since I was nearly 4-months-pregnant, but a clean that made sure the kitchen was fresh smellin' for spring) and was now tidying up the living room. For the most part, the room was clean. Shaw's side table was the exception tho since he had a large stack of papers scattered all over it, in the spot that he used to keep his decanter might I add. He put the decanter in the cupboard as soon as he got home weeks ago. Honestly, I doubt he was truly sober since I knew him well enough by now, but I just didn't have any proof that he was sneaking around.

Anyways, I started to clean up the table by picking up the papers and tossing them into the waste basket I was holding. My actions faltered whenever my hand and sight fell upon Monday's edition of the New York Globe. Quickly, I dropped the waste basket, picked up the paper, and took a seat in my husband's wingback chair. My indigo eyes were glued to the North Eastern newspaper as I read the article that was a large investigative expose about the feud. The journalist, T.C. Crawford, painted a picture with his exquisite use of words that damned Devil Anse and the Hatfields while lifting up Randall McCoy and his into the heavens for sainthood.

Once I was done reading the article, I tossed it into the waste basket that was by my feet. I slumped back into the chair, letting out a heavy sigh. It seems that phase 2 of the feud's just begun. I doubt it'll take long for phase 3 (running and hiding out) to happen. I had a sick feeling in my stomach as I realized that this was officially the beginning of the 7-years of hell the Hatfields go thru during the feud.

I just hope and pray I made the right decision in staying here; that I can survive the hard years to come along with my kids.

AN:

Hoe you guys liked this chapter. So, it's official, Asa's the reporter assigned to the Hatfields. Of course, Olga's upset by that. How do you guys feel about Asa caring more about his career then Olga's feelings when it comes to his new assignment? What do you guys think about Zeke and Tolbert's talk? Do you think Jessa's gonna sit back, hoping and praying that her kids and Cotton stay safe or do you think she's going to take action as the feud goes on?