The Tie That Binds: A Hatfields and McCoys Fanfiction

Burying Regrets

Wrapped in her father's overcoat and holding his walking stick close to her, Cordelia dozed for a couple of hours in his study. The bay windows glowed gray with dawn, the chill in the large room leaving her numb. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to block out reality. The miserable ache in her throat made her nauseous.

She shuddered at the abrupt click of the kitchen door opening down the hall. Hannah drifted by the open study door before returning to it. Cordelia blinked across the room at the housekeeper. The older woman sighed, her large brown eyes filling with worry as she strode towards the desk.

"Have you been here all night?"

Cordelia stiffly sat up in the chair, her joints complaining. "I couldn't sleep."

"I knew I shouldn't have left you alone last night."

"I was fine," Cordelia replied with a shrug. "Just going to take some adjustment."

Hannah rounded the corner of the desk and pressed the back of her hand to Cordelia's forehead.

"Well, at least you aren't ill. You scared me at first, you're so wan I thought for sure..." Perching her hands on her hips, she sighed and brought Cordelia to her feet. "Now, let's get you to your room where you can rest."

Cordelia's head spun with exhaustion. "I just need to get dressed and eat something."

"At least you have your appetite," Hannah replied, leaving her at the foot of the stairs. "I'll get the coffee on for you. It's baking day so there should be some biscuits in a little while too."

"Thank you, Hannah."

Cap's wanted poster had been discarded at the bottom of the stairs. Thankfully, it was folded over and Hannah hadn't noticed it. Grabbing it, Cordelia gingerly climbed the stairs to her room. The reflection at her dressing table was unforgiving. The dark smudges under her eyes and her bloodless lips made her look like the living dead. With shaky fingers, she pulled her hair back into a thick braid and splashed cold water on her face.

The wanted poster lay on her neatly made bed. She cringed down at it after she had dressed in another black mourning dress. Snatching it from the duvet, she clawed it to pieces as hot tears forced their way to the surface.

It wasn't his fault and she knew it. But she had been stupid enough to ask him to stay with her and he had been honorable enough to turn her down. So she'd spent the night, battling the loneliness and grief by herself.

The request had been impulsive and selfish. He was a salve for her pain. No matter how much he lit her up with his presence, she'd never seriously consider him. She had to remind herself of that fact over and over.

Either she would remain there alone and scratch out a living for herself or Marshall Rogers would follow through with his promises. Her pride wouldn't allow her to consider any other road.

She returned to her father's study, determined to focus on the next step. Pushing aside her grief, she pulled out the log book of her father's finances. His scrawl had been etched out with a weak hand. The numbers blurred in her vision and she viciously rubbed away the tears. Her father had been so hopeless in the end and she hadn't done anything to comfort him in his confusion.

"Here, now this will make you feel a might better." The cup jostled on its saucer as Hannah brought her some coffee. "Those first biscuits should be done in a few minutes."

"Hannah," Cordelia choked out. She took a deep breath to steady her emotions. "I need to talk to you."

Hannah paused by the door. "Yes?"

Cordelia held the log book to her breast as she rounded the desk. "I have some bad news. It seems...well- with my father's finances..."

Hannah's mouth softened in sympathy. "What is it child? You need to let me go?"

Cordelia gave a brusque nod, her face burning. "I'm terribly sorry, but the money isn't there anymore. And we spent most of my mother's inheritance moving here and buying the house so I cannot continue to keep you with us... or with me, I suppose I should say now."

Hannah walked over to her and tipped up her trembling chin, smiling gently at her. "Nothin' to be ashamed of, child. I understand. I thought as much was gonna happen."

"I can pay you your final wages."

"Please, don't. I insist you keep that for yourself." Hannah took the log book from her and set it on the desk. Holding her hands, she sought Cordelia's eyes. "It's just fine, baby. You're gonna be just fine."

Cordelia broke, the sobs coming full force. Hannah wrapped her arms around her and Cordelia pressed into her shoulder, her dress smelling like fresh bread. Giving into Hannah's demands, the widow led Cordelia up to her bedroom to rest. When Cordelia woke again, it was early afternoon. Expecting to find herself alone, she stumbled down into the parlor and was surprised to see Hannah darning clothes by the fire. The older woman shooed her back upstairs.

"I want you in bed. The last thing you need is to be feeling poorly. Just put that goldang pride of yours aside and listen to me, girl," Hannah chided as she chased her back up the stairs.

"But please, don't feel obligated. I can't pay you-" Cordelia tried to argue.

"I don't want your money, child. Now scoot."

Cordelia slept hard again, her dreams dark and quickly forgotten. It was night when she awoke later as Hannah entered her room with a bowl of root broth and biscuits. Though her mind was foggy, she felt physically stronger than earlier.

"Now that you aren't my employer anymore, I ain't listening to you tonight," Hannah bossed her as she set the tray next to the bed. "I'm staying here tonight. I'll leave tomorrow because I need to see to my cows, but you're not getting rid of me that easy."

"Hannah, thank you."

"Its the least I can do after how good you and your pap were to me. He was a good man. I'm awful sorry for his loss."

Cordelia set her spoon down. "I wish I could have told him..."

"Told him what, baby?"

She forced a watery smile. "That I was sorry. For being so cold. That I loved..."

Hannah reached out and patted her hand. "He knew it. You can't let those regrets haunt you, let them stay buried with the dead. Else you'll be buried alive right along side your pap."

After changing out of her wrinkled mourning dress, Hannah brushed out Cordelia's tangled curls and tucked her back into bed in her warmest nightgown. Her footsteps and the faint glow of her lamp faded down the hall as Hannah retired to the guest bedroom for the night. Laying in the dark, Cordelia listened to the owls in the oak tree as she tried to wash her father's blood from her mind.

***

In the copse of nearby woods, another figure sat with his back pressed to a gnarled maple tree. Adjusting his shotgun against his shoulder and rubbing his hands together to warm them, he peered up at Cordelia's dark window. It was the second night in the row he had kept vigil outside her house.

If any men from the saloon came demanding debts be paid by the doctor's daughter, he'd find himself shot clean through before he could speak a word to her. Cap would make sure of that.

He had promised himself he would do right by Cordelia Robertson and the thought of staying under the same roof as her had made his head spin. The tension between them was only growing the more they saw each other. She seemed as much aware of it as him. He couldn't trust himself alone with the girl, not when she was so vulnerable. But he wouldn't abandon her. Not now. Not ever.