It felt good to be working with his hands again. Damn good. Actually building something and earning an honest wage was slowly bringing him back to life. 

Cap Hatfield had no regrets about his decisions with his finger on the trigger. He wasn't ashamed about killing Paris, Pharmer, Tolbert, Bud, or Jefferson McCoy. It had been a matter of honor. They'd shamed, killed, or threatened his family. That was enough reason for him. He didn't need justification from God or any man.

But the spilling of blood was wearying. Cotton Top swinging was the last straw for him. In his effort to protect those he loved, he'd allowed his cousin to die for all their sins. It was the one thing that he could never forgive himself for when he'd listened to his pap and allowed Devil Anse to sway his will. He'd been ready to storm that prison for his cousin, but Anse said no. He knew better than to act out against his father. 

After Cotton's death, they were able to come down out of the hills. The McCoy bounty hunters had been called off, their deputy warrants revoked. Anse and Cap still kept a strong vigil around their homestead, but the valley had settled into a dog-tired peace. Everyone was spent by the violence, including the other townsfolk. 

Though Cap never saw himself shaking hands with any McCoy or doing business with them, he didn't feel the need to make them pay for their sins. Both sides had given enough in the grisly feud. He was back in his old bed in the upstairs barn, where the doomed McCoy sons had been held captive. Sometimes he would wake in the middle of the night, not scared of ghosts, but terrified of a simple question.

Had it been worth it? Was all the loss they had suffered truly worth the price of honor? Were principals worth sacrificing innocent blood for?

It didn't matter now. He had more important things to worry about, especially since his older brother had abandoned his only child and gone out west. Johnse never even saw Rivers. He packed his bags, told their mother farewell, and ran off before Cotton was ever pronounced guilty. It was hard for Cap not to hate his older brother. It was a betrayal of blood. He would always love him, but he could never respect Johnse again.

"It's your mother," Anse muttered, chewing on the end of his pipe.

Cap turned from the cart full of fresh cut pine as a wagon bumped into the valley where their logging business was located. Pulling off his thick gloves, he waved to Levicy as she brought the horses to a stop. Annie had baby Rivers on her lap, the little boy's golden red tuft having turned into a crown of thick curls over the last ten months. He was a chubby, solemn boy with a rare grin that melted any present. Levicy said that he reminded her of Cap when he was little, perhaps in silent hope Rivers would turn out more like his uncle than his father.

"Brought y'all somethin' to eat," Levicy said as she propped a basket on the end of the wagon.

Cap relieved Annie of Rivers, holding the babe with one arm up against his chest as he dug for an apple in the offering of vittles. Rivers gnawed on his fist, glaring at his grandfather as Anse brushed biscuit crumbs from his beard. Cap's hand brushed a piece of paper at the bottom of the basket.

"What's this?"

Levicy gave a sly grin and took Rivers from him. "Open it then!"

Cap knew what it was before he read the address on the envelope. It was from university at Charlottesville. He tore it open, heart thudding in anticipation. He almost choked on his bite of apple.

"I've been accepted." He blinked up at his parents in shock. "I'm going to study law next spring."

It had been Anse's idea. With Uncle Wall still behind bars as well as other men that had been loyal to them, they needed someone who knew the law. Cap was sharp and hardworking. He was the best option for the job. Funny thing was that he didn't think that he'd actually be accepted. 

Anse clapped him on the shoulder. "Proud of you, boy."

Any word of praise from his pap was earth quaking to Cap. Overwhelmed, he gave a muted nod and buried his attention in the type printed words. He was going to be an attorney. He'd be lying if the thought of hopping a train up to Massachusetts and finding Cordelia didn't cross his mind at that moment. This was his chance to be worthy of her and give her the life that she deserved. 

But the odds were that she was already wed to that Yankee son of a bitch who wrote her letters like he was Lord Byron or something. Marshall Rogers. He hadn't forgotten the name. It was an easy one to sneer at. But he was a senator's grandson to boot. And all Cap had was a letter of acceptance from a university. She would laugh in his face.

"Thanks for the food and the news, mama. Now back to work all y'all," Anse bellowed.

The logging hands jumped to obedience. Devil Anse hadn't earned his nickname for no reason. Taking another bite of his apple, Cap tucked the letter into the front pocket of his overalls. Winking at Rivers, he tugged on his work gloves.

"Hold on, son. I've got somethin' else to tell you," Levicy whispered, grabbing him by the elbow with her free hand. Hitching Rivers onto her hip, she led him towards the wagon. "Someone is lookin' to talk with you about somethin' important."

His dark brows lowered over his narrowing eyes. "Who?"

"Jim McCoy."

Cap smirked. "What does he want? The lily-livered-"

"It's about your wife."

He wet his bottom lip and stared at the earnest look on his mother's face. Perching an elbow on the wagon seat, he leaned towards her and lowered his voice. "She's not my wife no more, mama-"

"Would you stop being a stubborn ass? A piece of paper don't mean nothin'. I was there you took that girl's hand, promised yourself body and soul. A signature can't undo something like that sworn before the Almighty."

With a harsh breath through his nose, Cap leaned against the wagon. "Did he say anything else?"

"Just to meet him this evening over at the saloon in Tug Fork."

"I ain't been in there since the troubles."

"He'll be watching for you. He knows it'd be dangerous for you."

"Are you sure this isn't a trap?"

Levicy sighed. "Jim has too much of his mother in him, God rest her soul. If it was any of McCoy's other sons, I would have questioned it. But not Jim. He's the best of them."

Cap couldn't argue, even if he was a McCoy. And there was no doubt in Cap's mind that Jim loved Cordelia as much as he still did. He tugged on his gloves and drew back a step. "Alright."