*Author's Note*
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Why Would I?
Brenton POV:
Perry was serious 'bout hirin' on Bad Frank as a special deputy to carry out the warrants and bounties on the Hatfields. So much that he sent me over to the saloon (since it's widely known that Bad Frank rents a room there from Wiggins) with a message for him. Wiggins assured me he'd tell Mr. Phillips right away, which made me go back to the office so that I could sit 'round at my desk, readin' and doin' nothin' in general while Perry sat on the edge of his seat waitin' on Bad Frank and Rand'l drank himself in a silly stupor.
I had my nose in a book whenever the doorbell loudly went out, signalin' that somebody had opened the door. Lookin' up from my book, I saw that Bad Frank was limpin' thru the door. I tried not to stare, but his limp was very odd. It looked like he had a stick up his ass an' was draggin' his leg as we walked. It was unlike any limp I'd ever seen 'fore.
Rand'l just narrowed his eyes at Bad Frank as he walked further into the room, all the while Perry perked up an' got a slick grin on his face. "Mr. Phillips, I'm so glad you decided to meet with us today." My brother-in-law greeted the former Pinkerton as the man limped his way over to his desk.
"You called me for this meetin' cause ya know I'm the only gunman able to do the job." Bad Frank bluntly said as he plopped down in the chair across from Perry's desk.
"Yes, well, you sound full of yourself."
"I'm not full of myself, just know I'm the best. I've seen better man then me weild a gun, but not many."
"He ran with the James Gang, Perry." I informed my brother-in-law the fact that everyone, but him and Rand'l, knew about the ex-Pinkerton takin' up residence in the local saloon.
"What?" Perry gasped; his eyes wide with shock as he reared back just a bit as if Bad Frank was gonna whistle and make a gang of outlaws appear outta nowhere and swarm the place.
"In my misguided youth I rode with Frank and Jesse James." Bad Frank confirmed with a nod. He wasn't usin' a boastful tone, but one that made his time as an outlaw seem like just a simple check on his resume. "Even seen Wild Bill Hitchcock kill a man, so I know there's better than me out there, but not many."
Perry's face twitced, causin' his mustache to pull up in a funny way, as he told Bad Frank, "I wasn't aware that you had once been an outlaw."
"I was." I spoke up, turnin' a page in my book.
Bad Frank looked at me, only for me to shrug in a 'what' type way 'fore turnin' the page in my book. He turned back around and shifted in his seat while simply makin' the remark of, "That was before I was washed in the blood and saved from my sins by our lord and savior, Jesus Christ."
Rand'l pulled his whiskey bottle 'way from his mouth long 'nough to judge Bad Frank with the dry and bitter remark of, "You don't act very Christian."
"And you do, Rand'l?" I asked the drunk, causin' him to just glare at me and stick his booze bottle into his mouth. Pointin' to him, I pressed on with, "Hell, if it wasn't for your drinkin' and miserable ways we wouldn't be in the mess we're in."
Perry furrowed his brows at me and chastised, "Brenton, don't talk to our cousin like that."
"Oh, don't remind me that he's my cousin by marriage, Perry. I quite like livin' in my blissful denial when it comes to that matter." I scoffed in a dramatic groan.
"Oh, Mr. Phillips, please ignore my brother-in-law. It seems Brenton's just a bit cranky since he hasn't seen his daughter and grandchil'ren for a while." Perry told the man he was interviewin' in order to make it seem like my attitude wasn't placed towards Rand'l, but towards something else. Well, truth was I didn't like Rand'l. Never really did either, but I just deal with him. Hell, I deal with my brother-in-law too cause if I didn't my daughter would've never had the good life that she does.
"But I bet you'll be sendin' me off to Frankfurt to give Senator Brooksdale some kind of intructions on what he needs to petition the governor 'bout so I'm sure I'll see them soon." I told Perry in one those those overly peachy tones, the ones reserved for teasin' family members an' such. "My daughter's married to the senator, so we've got some friends in high places concernin' this feud." I explained to Bad Frank since the man just just givin' me a raised brow look.
"Ah…" The ex-outlaw and Pinkerton nodded his head. Turnin' his attention back to Perry, he told him in a dead serious tone, "I'm the best man to seek justice for ya 'gainst your demon murderers cause I bear all the Hatfields a grudge after a shootout wit' their kin left me with my limp an' cost me my job."
Perry gave Rand'l a large, mischievous grin, before tellin' Bad Frank, "I told Rand'l last night at dinner, since he was so kind to have me and Brenton over, that you were exactly what we needed to serve the warrants on the Hatfields for us."
I closed my book only to look at Bad Frank bluntly tell him, "He only thinks you got what it takes cause your ruthless reputation preceded you and he needs somebody that's, accordin' to Mr. McCoy here, is savage cause Devil Anse had Parris McCoy thrown in his woodchipper."
Bad Frank let out a loud bellowin' chuckle. Pointin' his finger at me, he declared, "I like your bluntness, Mr. Landon." Turnin' his attention back to Perry, he vowed, "I'll hunt down your demon murderers."
"Good, cause I want you to start up a posse right away."
"With what I've seen in this town, it's gonna take a while for me to 'round up some good men."
"Well, you've got time considerin' I need the governor to permit you pardon papers for your past outlaw status along with official papers making you a special Marshal for the state of Kentucky."
After Bad Frank left the office, Perry sent me on my mission to visit Billings and Nova in order to hand deliver orders on what he needed done. Of course, my ride to Frankfurt took a few hours, but at least I arrived in time for a late lunch. Good for that too since my stomach was growlin' hungrily since I hadn't et since breakfast.
I couldn't help, but smile as I rode down the street my daughter lived on. It was a street right in the center of downtown Frankfurt, the state's capitol. It was modeled a lot after D.C. with its sprawlin' brownstones framin' the streets. Brownstones seemed to be a staple in every big city or capitol. My son-in-law had one in the three cities he split his time in: Louisville, Frankfurt, and Washington D.C.
I was genuinely happy to be able to see Nova an' my gran'chil'ren even tho my reason for visitin' wasn't for the chance to play gran'pappy. I doubt I'll have anymore then the two since Billings seems to be more focused of politics then family and my daughter doesn't seem to be pushin' the subject of more chil'ren. Hmm…perhaps once the politics of the feud have played out, I'll get more grandchil'ren.
When I reached my daughter's brownstone, I quickly pulled my horse to a stop, dismounted, and hitched it to the wrought iron fence that separated the small patch of front yard from the cobblestone sidewalk. I tipped my hat at the neighbor, who had walked out of her house with her lil horde of chil'ren, 'fore makin' my way up to Nova's front door. I used the brass doorknocker to announce my presence and then stood by, idly waitin' for somebody to answer.
"Pa, why didn't you send word that you were comin' to visit?" Nova asked me, her cornflower blues sparklin' with surprise, as a wide smile appeared on her face. Not givin' me a chance to answer, she turned over her shoulder an' shouted, "Billings, pa's here!" Turnin' back to me, she stepped side and simply said, "He's in the study readin' with the chil'ren. In fact, he's teachin' Bren his letters."
"If Bren's anythin' like his parents, I'm sure he'll be catchin' in no time." I complimented as I entered the brownstone's elegant entranceway.
Nova smiled and shut the door before sayin', "Come on.", and leadin' me down the hall towards the study.
We were halfway to the study whenever we were met by Billings walkin' down the hall with a pair of toddlers hangin' on his shoulders, gettin' piggyback rides. "Go say hi to gran'pa." Billings instructed his chil'ren while crouchin' down to allow Bren and Rihanna the ability to hop off his back and onto the floor.
"Gran'pa, gran'pa!" The chil'ren, who took after their mother in their colorin', squealed as they ran over to me.
I bent down and held my arms open, only for my grandchil'ren to run right into them; nearly knockin' me over in their excitement. I gave them a while 'fore pullin' back an' sayin', "Oh, ya'll 've gotten so big."
"Here to relay a message from Perry." Billings stated, not asked, as he made up the few steps to meet wit' me and Nova.
"Yes, I am." I nodded, rufflin' my grandchil'ren's heads 'foe standin' up.
"Well, since you've got business to tend to, I'll just take the chil'ren and go into the parlor for a bit. Just come join us when you're done." Nova said in a polite, but tight way, 'fore usherin' the chil'ren down the hall towards said parlor room.
"Jesus Christ, he wants me to convince Governor Buckner to pardon Bad Frank Phillips of all his past outlaw crimes along with convincin' him to make him a special U.S. Marshall for the state of Kentucky all so that thee warrants and bounties can be fulfilled?" My son-in-law asked me in an incredulous tone, his brow quirked up, as he sipped on his glass of bourbon while we sat at his desk.
"Yep." I popped my tongue, reachin' forward to grab my own glass from the desk.
"When does he expect me to get this done?" Billings asked, slightly shiftin' in his chair, as he continued to sip of his bourbon.
"Sooner rather than later." I informed in in a slight sigh 'fore takin' a sip of my drink.
Leanin' back in his chair and restin' his arm on his chair's armrest, causin' the bourbon glass to balance 'gainst the edge of the mahogany wooden armrest, he informed me in a dry tone, "Well, I've got to relocate to Washington for a bit since my time to serve in the Senate's come. I'm honestly not sure when I'll be able to see the governor let alone tickle his ear with reasons why he needs to do these favors for the McCoys."
"Hey, I'm just the messenger." I reminded him as I set my glass down on the table. Leanin' back into my seat, I added in, "It's just my job to tell you to get Governor Buckner to sway our way; if you got problems with that then take it up with Perry."
My son-in-law nodded. Takin' a sip of his drink, he said, "I'll talk to Governor Buckner, but make sure that Perry knows it's not goin' to be right away since I've got other pressin' matters."
"I'll tell him." I assured him since, really, what else was I gonna do?
"Well, reckon we better join Nova and the chil'ren in the parlor." Billings suggested while standin' uo and placin' his glass on his desk with a slight clink.
"In the kitchen for lunch would be better." I countered in a chuckle, standin' up while Billings made his way over to the door.
"I'm sure Nova can fix up a sandwich tray and bring it into the parlor for us." Billings assured me, openin' the door and makin' his way into the hall.
"Good cause I haven't et in hours. Perry was very insistant that I ride out to see you as soon as he sent that ex-Pinkerton outlaw off to form a posse." I told Billings as followed him out of the study and down the hall.
"Oh, I'll have to keep in touch with my brother more just to find out how ruthless this posse is."
"Talkin' 'bout your brother, I saw him lookin' at Shaw Eldridge's wife, Jessa, like she was a fine dessert he wanted to et durin' Easter service."
Billings shook his head incredulously. "Dear lord, what's he gettin' himself into?"
"So far, nothin' yet, but I think in time he'll get bold and might approach her." I honestly told him how I felt.
"He's always been bold…" Billings muttered right as we neared the parlor.
I didn't say a word, just walked right by him and into the parlor in order to visit wit' my daughter an' grandchil'ren. I didn't have time to deal with Billings mumblin' and mutterin' 'bout his brother. We all had brothers that did dumb shit. I just hope he's better an' wrangling his then I am mine or else this entire feud is gonna blow up in all of our faces like a accidental TNT discharge cause I know that Shaw Eldridge'll make every Kentuckians life a livin' hell, for the sake of the feud or just cause that boy's grown a bit unbalanced in the last year and has a malicious streak in him, if anyone goes near his wife.
The Examiner:
The Examiner- Saturday, March 31st, 1883
Why Would I?
By: Asa M. Merriweather
I, as I'm sure the rest of you, were shocked when I read Tuesday's front page expose in the New York Globe. It had unspeakable accusations in it that made both Jim Vance and his nephew, Devil Anse, look like monsters. I just couldn't believe that they could do such things, not with the family-oriented impression I've gotten from him.
I was told to do an interview to clear up some things, but that's not what I did. No, I didn't intentionally ignore my orders, but it turns out that doing an interview was a bit of an impossible task. First, I went to Cap Hatfield's house to conduct an interview on his thoughts about the Globe's publishing, but he refused to comment. In fact, the article in the New York Globe had upset and unnerved him so badly that he slammed the door shut in my face. I was startling, but I knew why he reacted that way. His family was slandered.
So, I went to Devil Anse's house to interview him. I went with the full intention of interviewing a hardened man, but when I got there I was meet with a patriarch sitting on his front porch; rocking in his rocker and smoking a pipe as he mulled over the slanderous and heinous accusations printed about him and his uncle. When I stepped onto the porch, he bluntly told me that he knew I was there to ask him about the incident with his daughter-in-law. Before I even had the chance to say a word, he opened up to me with the heartfelt remark of, "Her brother, my disgruntled employee, made the accusation. Crawford just wrote it down to sell newspapers for his boss. I took Allie in when she was orphaned durin' a wagon accident crossin' the Tug when she was 'bout fifteen. She nursed my son back to health when he injured his eye in a loggin' accident." His words hit me, made me realize that he had done a lot of good for his daughter-in-law before she was even officially in his family. That he cared for her, like a daughter.
After his heart striking words, he puffed on his pipe and asked me the question of, "Why would I lock a woman up in a barn that my son loves, who's the reason why he's alive instead of dead from a seriously festered eye wound?" I didn't ask him for an answer and he didn't give one because he knew that I already knew. The answer was a simple one, one any man or woman with common sense and a heart would come to.
He wouldn't do those things, not to a woman that he took into his home as an orphan that had become both his son's healer and his wife. It wasn't in his family-oriented nature to turn on his daughter-in-law for no reason, other then her brother made a foolhardy decision.
It seems that T.C. Crawford over at the New York Globe is just writing all old nonsense that he's told to sell papers, but unlike him I write the truth to convey to you loyal readers what is really going on in these backwoods and rolling hills of the Appalachian's Tug Fork River Valley.
AN:
Hope you guys liked this chapter. I know that I liked writing it, lol. Next up Brock gets a Western Union and finds himself helping out Johnse and Roseanna. Also, Shaw's gonna have some more time traveling bar escapades that reveal more things to him about his future. Dun dun dun…
By the way, I was binge watching Marvel movies on Disney+ this weekend and for some reason got an idea for a Brock Rumlow (yea he's the double agent that tried to arrest Captain America and fights Sam only for a building to fall on him in the end) story. He'd be a triple agent working for Coulson and gets involved with one of SHIELD's new secretaries (who's a bit overqualified to be a secretary). Anyone interested in reading?