The Devil's Daughter in Law

Chapter Two

Cordelia's POV

I walked out of the general store to see Randall McCoy and some of his boys riding into town and I looked over to see Mr. Hatfield and Will watching them. A McCoy boy comes up behind me, "Well, isn't it Miss Barlowe! Hey, boys, looky what I found!" I picked up my skirt and ran over to Will, who pulled me into his arms and Mr. Hatfield shielded me as Randall and Cline stopped in front of us. Uncle Jim spit on the ground, "It's a nice day for a hanging, ain't it, old Randall?"

A McCoy boy stared at Uncle Jim, "Mean Jim Vance. Heh. Why, you're not all that much. I mean, up-close like." Uncle Jim stood up, "Who the hell are you?" The boy smiled, "I'm Tolbert McCoy, son of Randall. See, I always wanted to meet the man who murdered my uncle and tell him his days were coming." Tolbert turned his head and smirked at me, walking over a little to stand in front of me, "Well, well. Cordelia Barlowe. You are the most beautiful little woman on this side of the Tug River. You know, you should be with a man like me, as-" I reached forward and slapped Tolbert's face hard, causing all the men to ooh and laugh at his face. 

I sneered, "I will never be with a man like you." Tolbert growled and tried to reach for my hair, "You Barlowe bitch!" Will pulled me closer to him and snapped, "If you like your hand where it is, you won't lay it on my woman!" Randall spoke up, "Tolbert, enough. Miss Barlowe shouldn't be messed with. She'll see the proper side eventually." Uncle Jim pulled everyone's attention back to him, "My days ain't coming. No from the likes of you. You wet-eared, prick-chafing little shit. Get out of my sight and leave Miss Barlowe alone before I snap you like a chicken neck." 

Randall stood at the door, "Tolbert, we're here on other business." Randall walked into the jail with Cline and Tolbert stomped away after Will had shoved my face into his chest so I didn't have to look at the McCoy. After a while, the two McCoy boys who killed Bill Stanton ran outside with smiles and Will held me tighter against him, muttering, "He cut them loose?" I muttered back, "If your pa and McCoy don't fix whatever is wrong. I sense more death will be in our lives, Will." Will looked at me, "You know if I could run away with you if I would." I smiled and nodded, "And that's why I'll stick by your side until death takes me." 

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1880, Election Day, 16 years old

I smiled as I stood by Cotton, watching his pa with the anvil. Cotton set the wedge on the anvil roughly and Mr. Ellison smiled, "Easy, son. Don't want it going off just yet. Miss Barlowe, have you ever seen your pa take gunpowder and launch something in the sky?" I smiled, "Can't say I have, Mr. Hatfield." 

Tolbert called out, "Yeah, mush head, don't blow us all up, you half-wit bastard moron." I glared at him, "Enough, Tolbert." Mr. Ellison walked over to him and grabbed his shirt, dragging him back, "Come here. You find it funny? Come here. Apologize." Tolbert grinned at me, "Yeah, I'm sorry you is a bastard, Cotton Top-" I hugged Cotton and sneered at Tolbert, "You disgust me." Mr. Ellison shook Tolbert and he yelped, "All right! All right. I'm sorry." Mr. Ellison gritted his teeth and wrapped his hand around Tolbert's throat, "That ain't good enough." Tolbert grimaced, "I apologize for what I called you. I won't never call you no names again." 

Mr. Ellison shoved Tolbert away and Cotton looked sad, "You didn't have to do that, Pa. Everybody calls me mush head." Mr. Hatfield walks over, "Well, you ain't like everybody else, Cotton. God give you such a big heart, he couldn't bear well give you an overabundance of brains now too, could he?" Cotton smiled, "Is that why Miss Barlowe is sweet and smart?" Mr. Ellison smiled, "She's got the right amount of both." Cotton frowned, "I am a bastard though."

I frowned, "You are not, Cotton. Don't ever call yourself that." Mr. Hatfield walked closer, "You listen to me, boy. Hm? A bastard's got no family that loves him. Is that you? Hm? Is that you?" Cotton shook his head and Mr. Hatfield nodded, "No, it's not." Mr. Ellison smiled, "You're my son. Why do you think your first name's Ellison?" Mr. Hatfield held his pipe, "Let's see it fly. Got to show Miss Barlowe what she's missing."