The last time she had been driven home by a man who wasn't her father had been three months earlier. It was after Louisa Campbell's masquerade ball where Cordelia had been the envy of the event. Cordelia had caught Marshall Rogers for an escort after he had requested several dances from her and then invited her to join him in his private box at the theater. 

He was the only grandson of the honorable Senator Rogers and one of the most eligible bachelors in the county. And there was a chance this boy next to her was the best the Tug River Valley could offer in comparison.

He called himself Cap, one moment coarse and raging and the next as bashful as a schoolboy. Her worst fears were confirmed in him. 

She would certainly die a spinster in the Appalachians.

Cordelia shifted her body away from him, subtly enough for him not to notice. Her snobbery had been bred in her bones. She wouldn't show it outwardly as she had been raised to mask her pride with politeness. But she couldn't deny it. 

And now he knew that her father was incapable of preforming his job efficiently. No doubt he would tell his family. With everyone related in the Tug River Valley by one way or another, word would spread faster than a fever. She bit her lip hard and closed her eyes.

"Miss Robertson, I want you to know that I won't tell nobody about this," Cap said softly as though he read her mind.

A pair of owls were calling to each other in the twilight, bats winging deliriously overhead. Cordelia let out her breath. Perhaps Cap Hatfield was the kind of man who was faithful to his word... for all his atrocious grammar.

"Thank you, Mister Hatfield. I would be much obliged."

"If you don't mind me asking though, what's wrong with him?"

The aging doctor muttered in his stupor. Cordelia hoped he hadn't taken too much morphine. She didn't know how to nurse an overdose. 

"Did your father fight in the war?"

"Don't know many whose daddy didn't," he replied, leaning his elbows on his knees.

"My father was an army surgeon. He insisted on tending men dying on the battlefield in the midst of combat."

"Brave man."

"Yes. So brave he got himself shot in the hip. The bullet is still in there, hitting nerves and the like," Cordelia rambled. She stopped herself when she felt the hot burn of tears behind her eyes. "It causes him a lot of pain. The medicine he uses to help leaves him incapacitated."

"Morphine?"

She blinked over at him. "How did you know?"

"I'm not stupid, Miss Robertson."

Cordelia was glad that the dim light hid the shame washing over her face. She knew she was being judgmental and that it was wrong considering how helpful he was being. But her pride was the last thing she had left from her former life. She clung to it like a shield.

"He lost his practice up north because of this and now we may lose this last card we have to play. My mother's cousin was doing us a favor with this clinic. Maybe it was trust misplaced." Cordelia neatened her gloves as she struggled to regain control of her emotions.

Cap nodded slowly. "And you're mad at him."

She scoffed. "Excuse me?"

"You're mad at your pap."

He was a certainly presumptuous. She turned her face away from him.

"I don't see how that's any of your business."

"It's not. But it's written clear as day on your face."

Cordelia shifted farther from him on the seat, making sure he noticed. "Thank you for your discretion concerning my father, but I would prefer not to talk about this anymore, Mister Hatfield."

"Certainly," Cap replied, chuckling. He snapped the horses to walk faster, jolting her body into his side. He steadied her with a hand to the small of her back. "We almost there?"

Cordelia cleared her throat, intensely aware of his touch as he lifted his hand away. "Up here."

Their home was in a clearing beyond the main road. With two stories of white washed boards and a broad porch, it was one of the finer homes in town. Her father had purchased it before their arrival through the help of his cousin. However, it was nothing compared to the brick townhouse where she had grown up in Springfield.

Cap lowed quietly as he halted the horses outside the front door. He leaped down and walked over to her side. She assumed he would help her down with her hand. Instead he gripped her by the waist and swept her to the ground. Breathless from his bold action, she gaped after him as he strode to where her father was laid up.

"C'mon, doc," he muttered, sitting him up and dragging him over the side.

"J-just this way, please," Cordelia directed him, still stunned by his manner towards her. She opened the front door for them. "Hannah! Please come help!"

Her new housekeeper, Hannah Macon, rushed from the kitchen wiping her hands on her apron. "Sakes alive, the doctor!"

"He's only had one of his fits," Cordelia explained. She had already prepared Hannah by telling her that her father occasionally suffered these episodes. She hoped the middle aged woman wouldn't catch on that it wasn't a medical condition.

Hannah stopped dead in her tracks as Cap peered up at her, Doctor Robertson's arm slung over his shoulders. She narrowed her dark brown eyes with a heavy frown. "You just want him in his bed, Miss?"

"Yes, thank you," Cordelia answered, eyeing the two of them. "If you could just follow us, Mister Hatfield."

They trudged up to the second floor where Cap deposited her father on his bed with a grunt.

"If you will take his boots off for me, Hannah. I will return right after I see Mister Hatfield to the door."

"Yes, miss."

Hannah shot a heated glare at Cap. Cap dipped his head towards Hannah with an icy smile that did not reach his strange eyes. He strode from the room without a word. Perplexed, Cordelia followed him down to the front door, holding a lamp to light the dim foyer.

"Again, thank you for all your help, Mister Hatfield." She opened the front door and stood beside it. He stood in front of her, his hat held lightly in his rough hands. She did not meet his eyes, still unsure of the young man. "I also appreciate you not mentioning all this with my father to anyone."

"Of course. And thank you for my head...well, the mending of it. Not the wound itself," he replied with a soft chuckle.

She glanced up to find him studying her in the lamplight, his blind eye glazed like frost and the other sky blue. He pursed his lips and nodded before trotting out into the night. Cordelia shut the door and stood by it, listening as he drove away.

Taking a moment to collect herself, Cordelia returned to her father's room. Hannah was setting his coat and boots in the wardrobe. Cordelia loosened the buttons on the neck of his shirt and pulled a blanket over him.

"Thank you, Hannah. I would appreciate a cup of tea."

"I'll have it ready for you down in the parlor."

Her father would sleep till morning and not remember anything from the previous evening. Perhaps it was for the best so she wouldn't have to explain Cap Hatfield. She wouldn't know where to start.

After taking off her jacket and hat, Cordelia returned downstairs to the parlor. As promised, Hannah was setting up the tea things beside the hearth. Nights were growing cooler even though it was only early September.

"Do you need anything else? Supper is ready in the kitchen."

"Thank you, I believe this is all I need for now. It's been a rather trying day."

She gave the woman a pained smile as she sat down on the edge of the armed chair. The interaction between Cap and Hannah came back to her. After pouring a delicate cup for herself, Cordelia decided to ask.

"Hannah, I was curious. Do you know the young man who helped us this evening?" she said as the woman made her way to the door.

"Hatfield?" Hannah spit with enough venom to kill a man. Cordelia gaped at the usually even tempered widow's reaction. The housekeeper collected herself. "I'm sorry, miss. I just... those Hatfields."

"What is wrong with them?" Cordelia prodded, her curiosity piqued.

Hannah sighed. "They are a rough lot, lying and cheating. Murdering-"

"Murder?"

"Yes. My sister's brother-in-law was murdered in cold blood by one of them, a mountain man named Jim Vance."

Cordelia stared at her, eyes wide at the news. "Why?"

Hannah shifted on her feet. "Because he fought for the Union in the war."

Her stomach dropped. She knew there were hard feelings in the border states between soldiers who had fought on opposite sides. But after the peace, surely things had resolved themselves. Especially so many years since the conflict had ended.

"And defiling young girls too, leading them astray," Hannah continued. "Just keep your wits about yourself, Miss Robertson. Don't let yourself alone with that one. Of course, you didn't know any better. But my niece has been roped into living in sin with that young man's brother for a year now."

Cordelia let out a breath, setting down her cup and smoothing out her skirts. She knew she had gotten a bad feeling about him, for all his feeble attempts at courtesy. What kind of heathen place had her father doomed her to?

Hannah sighed. "I'm sorry, Miss. I didn't mean to shock you-"

"No, thank you. I appreciate the warning."

"I am sure he didn't mean you no harm."

Cordelia recalled how he had taken liberties to touch her. And she had opened the door by offering to nurse him herself. She would have to practice more discretion in the future with the men of the valley.

"I will be sure to steer clear of him and his ilk, I promise you that," Cordelia replied.

Giving her a quiet smile, Hannah left her to her thoughts. Cordelia's eyes shot to the front door. Her father had insisted on having a steel bolt installed. She strode over and snapped it shut.