A/N: This is my first Cap Hatfield story, but I've loved the miniseries forever and read most stories out there. I'm planning four parts for this story. They all center around a single conversation with flashbacks to add depth and context. In doing research I found Johnse also sometimes was called Jonce for short in the show, so I use both. The timeline follows the show. Feedback s greatly appreciated. Please let me know if you like it or if it's shit.

Part 1

The room is deathly silent. The air so thick Lyla could cut it with a knife. The cracklin of the fire the only sound to be heard as her heart pounds so hard she can hear it pumping in her ears.

Lyla's eyes are hinged upon her uncle Anse as his bore into her with such stern fever she feels her body heating up under the burn of his glare. Lyla knows her uncle is loyal to his kin, but being on the wrong side of his temper has got her spooked.

His pipe is clenched between his teeth before he tugs it out once more. The gravel of his voice filling the room with dread.

"Now I'm only gonna ask you one more time, who gotcha in 'ta this predicament?"

Lyla never wanted to bring such trouble upon her family. She already felt burden enough on her uncle and aunt, taking her and her brother in after her Pap been murdered. But this… This was too much to ask of anyone.

Gone and shamed herself and her family in the worst way a lady can. That's why she hid it as long as she could. With McCoy's out for vengeance, bounty hunters and the law after her family, timing never seemed right to add another pillar onto the fire.

That's why it took her aunt putting the pieces together and confronting her before the awful truth came to light.

Lyla swallowed hard against the choking lump in her throat. Her breath quivering with fear as it slips past her lips.

Lyla's eyes shot to her aunt Levicy, a pleading in her gaze she couldn't suspend, but Levicy's gaze was as steady as Anse, with no sympathy to be found.

Her aunt Levicy was a kind woman. Always been really good to Lyla, raising her like her own after Lyla's mama died, but she was a strong woman too and Lyla has just brought a world a hurt on her home.

Lyla's lips felt parched as she ran her tongue across them. Praying she could make her tongue do something more when she tried to speak.

Lyla opens your mouth to deliver her death sentence and own up to what she's done, but before she can speak someone beats her to the punch.

"I did," An all to distinctive gritty twang answers behind her. A voice Lyla would know anywhere.

Spinning around, her skirt twirling as she goes, Lyla's eyes land on Will, Cap as they like to call him. She's not sure when he came in the door or how he long he's been standing there, but he'd clearly heard enough.

Lyla wants to ask him what the hell he's doing, but he never meets her eyes, holding steady on his Pa's.

"Ya did what?" Anse sternly questions, both shock and rage waging war for dominance on his face as his attention turns to Will.

"Now hows it I raised two sons that can be so god damn dumb! Didn' have 'nough trouble already with yer brother, had to go make yer own mess!" Lyla listens to her uncle Anse hollering, his voice bellowing through the homestead, feet stomping against the floorboard as she spins back around to see him storming over toward Will.

"Now I told ya to stay away offa her when she came into this house!" Anse hollers, bringing up a conversation between father and son Lyla wasn't privy to, but only made matters worse for Will.

Lyla barely has time to follow his stride before he's on Will, fist swinging. Blinded by his rage, Will went down without a fight. Didn't even try to defend himself, taking it like he had it coming, accepting his Pa's punishment.

Lyla can't watch him take this punishment for her. She can't bare it. So, she charges into the mess. Trying to reach Will.

"Please uncle Anse, Please!" Lyla desperately begs.

Likely get herself pummeled too if Johnse hadn't stepped in, trying to pull his Pa back. Lyla hadn't even realized Johnse was there either until he intervened.

Lyla reaches for Will as she crouches against the floor, trying to get between the two men and cover herself over him, but Will still manages to hold her back at arm's length, trying to protect her too.

Johnse manages to keep some of the blows back, before Levicy steps in. Always a fierce mama, she gets Anse to backdown from his rage.

Everyone's huffing, tensions high as the fight breaks apart. Lyla and Johnse help Will back to his feet, before he shakes off the hold she and Johnse got on him. Lyla's heart breaks with the sight of his bleeding lip and busted cheek.

"Y'all go outside now. Let me 'in yer Pa have a word." Levicy speaks, no question in her tone.

They all move to the porch out front, the door barely shutting before they all come to a slow and steady stop. Lyla feel Johnse's eyes on her first, sharp against the fading sunlight dipping down on the mountain peaks.

She doesn't know what he's thinking and she's afraid to find out. His gaze is penetrating as it sweeps between her and Will.

Lyla's meet his gaze, but only briefly before turning her eyes to Will and the look pulsing through Will as he stares down his brother is enough to chill the blood in the any man's veins.

Without a word, Johnse turns and trots down the porch steps and away from the house. Lyla knows her heart should feel heavy that he's running scared, but she's never been so relieved to see Johnse's go.

As soon as Johnse was outta ear shot, Lyla turns to Will.

"Why 're you doin this?" She asked plainly, keeping her voice purposefully low as she searcsh his face for answers in the dimming light.

Will looks down at Lyla suddenly, finally meeting her eyes, and all she see is stubborn and steel staring back at her.

"S'ones gotta." He answers curtly, before moving swiftly across the porch, his boots heavy against the old boards.

Five Months Earlier...

Election Day 1882

Blackberry Creek was bustling with life. It was election day and people from all around these parts had come out for the festivities. It was summer time in the south; the days were long and warm, and the air was thick and sticky.

Rhythmic stomping feet and the twangy tune of the fiddle filled the forest with life. Couples danced around the makeshift floor without a care in the world. Sporadic gun fire broke through the fiddle's sweet melody as men drank and carried on over a lively shooting contest at the edge of the festivities. While bootleggers sold their whiskey from the barrel off rickety carts, Johnse manning his own brew from his still up in the hills.

The clearing bustled with life as merchants and peddlers sold their goods from booths and stands. People laughed and mingled without a care in the world, and for a short while you'd never know two feuding families were enjoying themselves side by side.

You love election day, for her it's a chance to get away from doing chores and have a little fun for a change. The sun feels hot on her shoulders and head, the air thick and dewy on her skin, while her hair soaks up the sun. Unlike her Pa's chestnut hue, Lyla's is long and blonde like her cousins, with big blue eyes to match.

Tall and lean with soft curves in all the right places, Lyla's noticed the way men's eyes like to linger, but in a family of roughneck men where girls are far more the rarity, a man would have to damn near pass through an army just to get near her. And with the circumstances of her birth, no suitable man had really tried.

Lyla watches from the sidelines as her brother Cotton Top carries on with the younger Hatfield children.

He may be her older brother by fourteen months, but it's her job to watch over him. He requires extra attention and since Lyla's Ma passed, that always fallen on her and her Pa. Not that she minds it, Cotton Top is the sweetest boy Lyla knows. She can't imagine her life without him.

"Pretty ribbon you got in yer hair." A voice spoke up suddenly from beside her.

Lyla turns to find none other than Calvin McCoy standing there, Randal McCoy's son, having crept up unannounced.

She offers him a subtle nod and turns back to watch her brother and the younger Hatfield children scurry amongst the grass and dirt.

"Thanks, my Pa got it for me." She answers plainly, being polite.

"I'm Calvin McCoy," He says, introducing himself while trying to keep her attention.

"I know who you are." Lyla answers back, returning her gaze to him only briefly.

"Ah, I see." He drawls out. "Take it ya hate McCoy's like the resta yer kin." He questions rhetorically, a crooked grin creepy up on the corner of his lips.

Lyla catches the glint in his eyes as she turns back to him.

"I try not to hate 'nyone." She answers honestly, fighting back the grin that's working its way on her face.

"You got a pretty smile too." His says, grin spreading wide as his eyes light up under her attention.

Lyla's face drops as she realizes he's flirting with her. Shaking her head, she dismisses the notion as her cheeks start to burn. Was it his compliment or the sun? New to this game for two, Lyla didn't have much experience with boys outside her kin.

"What's goin' on over here?" A rough voice picks up suddenly from behind her.

Turning toward her other shoulder, Lyla finds Will coming at her. His gaze reaching over her head, driving nails into the young man beside her.

Lyla can tell her cousin isn't pleased to see her conversing with a McCoy. As Devil Anse son and Jim Vance nephew, hating McCoys has been instilled in Will since he was just a boy.

While Lyla's Pap had always been more reasonable about these matters and tried to raise her and her brother up the same.

Placing her hand on his arm, Lyla tries to ease the rapidly mounting tension.

"We was just talkin' Will." She explains as if it were that simple.

"Ya heard the lady, we was just talkin." Calvin throws back, with a boldness on his breath and a challenge in his eyes Lyla knows damn well is a recipe for disaster.

"Shut up McCoy, think it's best you go on back to yer own kin." Will snaps out, still never looking Lyla's way as he holds his ground in a standoff against Calvin McCoy.

"An' if I don'?" Calvin throws back as he squares his shoulders, refusing to back down to Will or any Hatfield.

Lyla can see the fuse has been lit in Will's eye. Her favorite cousin, she's been watching him her whole life. She knows what makes Will tick and she knows if this turns anymore sour it's going to be more than just words that gets thrown around. Lyla don't want that, certainty over her.

Removing the remaining distance between herself and Will, Lyla's hand find his chest as she pleads with Will to be sensible, be the bigger man. Hoping his soft spot for her will win him over.

"He's not worth, Will. Please."

Finally, he looks down at her, her touch breaking through the stubborn steel of his anger.

"Please, let's just go." She tries to reason with him, her eyes calling for him.

Before he can make up this mind, another voice steps in overshadowing the rest. "Calvin! What 're doin' with Hatfields? Git over here."

Lyla looks over her shoulder to see Calvin's cheeks turning red with a twinge of embarrassment, he'd been caught red handed. Despite his resistance to backing down, the young man could see he no longer had a choice in the matter as he tilted his hat to her.

"Miss Lyla," He said before hightailing it back over to his brother, a McCoy Lyla recognized as Tolbert. The curly red hair and scowl on his face giving him away every time.

"N' stay the hell away from her!" Lyla tensed against the grit in Will's voice as he left Calvin with a parting message.

As Calvin left, Lyla felt Will take ahold of her elbow and starts leading her across the grass.

"I'm s'pose to be watchin the kids." She says.

"Robert E. can." Will spits curtly back.

She knows he wants to have a word with her as she moves away from Calvin, Lyla realizes she isn't the only one getting a lecture as she hears Tolbert's crass words in the distance. "What 're you doin' with that Hatfield bastard?"

Lyla cringes a little with a name she's heard all too many times, but never quite got used to.

Glancing up at Will, she's only relieved he didn't hear it or that fire would have sparked back to life ten times the blaze it was moments ago. As protective as Will is of her, no amount of sweet talking would have deterred him before he knocked some sense into Tolbert.

Will's grip on Lyla's elbow is firm as he leads her away from the McCoy's, out toward to the edge of the tents and booths where less people linger and there's more room to talk.

Digging her heels into the soft earth below, Lyla forces Will to stop when she feels they've gone far enough, tugging her arm free.

"Will, we was just talkin." Lyla tells him. Trying to make him understand, make him see he's making something out of nothing.

Will turns back to her, same fire still burning in his blue eye as his gaze shoots out over to where the McCoy's are then back to Lyla.

"Yeah well, I don' like the way he was lookin at you." He grinds out through a tight jaw, letting out a deep huff before leaving the grounds and moving out toward the brush and trees. His feet heavy with spite.

Clutching her long skirt, Lyla takes off after him, her feet moving quick to keep up with his pace and long stride.

She hates seeing Will mad. Hates feeling like she stirred up a hornet's nest for reasons she's not sure she fully understands. If Lyla didn't know better, she'd think Will was jealous, because ever since he started looking at her differently, Lyla's not always sure what's going on in his head.

"And how was he lookin at me?" Lyla questions him.

She knows Will's protective, but she'd never seen him look like that before. Then again he'd never really seen her talking to another boy who wasn't kin before.

She's no fool, she's noticed the way Will looks at her sometimes. With that intense gaze of his that can make her feel like she were sitting over a fire pit. Other Hatfields have noticed it too, Lyla's caught them teasing him about it from time to time, but Will's never made a move beyond that, so she isn't sure what to make of any of it.

"Like you were a damn meal." He grumbles out before turning to spit as if the words left a vile taste in his mouth, stomping into a set of trees and moving deeper into the forest surrounding them.

His shoulders are tight as Lyla works to keep pace with him. His tone sharp and his breathe heavy as he works through his anger.

"Well it's not I'm spoken for, now is it?" Lyla points out and instantly regrets her choice of words as Will abruptly stops and turns back quick onto her.

"You wanna end up with a McCoy now?" He practically spits out, giving her a look as if she'd grown two heads.

"Course not," Lyla's quick to dismiss. Letting out a heavy breath as they finally stop. She hates seeing him like this, all wound up. She never would have talked to that boy if she'd known it would bother him this much.

Lyla's eyes sweep around her as she realizes she followed Will farther into the woods than she'd planned. Knowing her Pa and Uncle Anse wouldn't approve of them alone by themselves, but she couldn't leave him like this.

Turning back to Will, Lyla aims to ease the tension coursing through him as she tries to explain it without making the whole thing worse.

"Alls I'm sayin is I ain't spoken for. Boys are s'pose to wanna talk to me, Will. How else am I s'pose to snag a husband? Is' hard 'nough as it is." Lyla explains it as rationally as she can.

Girls her age were supposed to land a husband. Hell, some were already engaged, but things were different for Lyla. She was more than pretty enough, people told her so, but she and her brother were born on the wrong side of the bed. Didn't matter her Pa was gonna marry her mama after she came along, only to have her ma die bringing Lyla into this world. Didn't matter she were raised by her Pa and carried his name.

Lyla came from outside the sacred confines of marriage, and no amount of pretty was gonna make her a suitable enough for most boys to court.

Hard as that truth is, it didn't bother her nearly as much as she knows it should, because truth be told, there was only one boy she wanted to court her. One boy she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. He just hadn't made a move.

"He's not good enough for you…" Will says firmly with a quick shake of his head for emphasis.

Pulling his hat from his head with a quick hand, letting the sun hit his face through the trees as he lets out a long heavy breath before his piercing eyes fall back onto her.

"Hell, I don't know if any man is."

Coming from anyone else that line would have been rich. Johnse would have delivered it with a shit eating grin on his face and a voice so smooth girls county wide would be willing to let him get up under their skirts.

But when Will says it his voice is raw with honesty as he looks at Lyla with such sincerity she suddenly finds it hard to breathe.

Lyla's doesn't fancy herself impulsive, but like all Hatfield's, she's got passion in her veins and fire in her belly.

And standing before Will as his blonde hair falls all messy around his handsome face, the intensity in his sterling blue eye as it pierces her from just feet away, has Lyla doing the most bold thing she's ever done.

Without a word, Lyla steps to him, leaning up, she captures his lips. There's no denying she surprised him. She can feel him tense beneath her lips, but seconds later, Will's giving in. Kissing her back, slowly, cautiously as if he's afraid if he's not careful he might overwhelm her. Lyla's arms tangle around his neck as she feels Will's arms wined around her waist.

A spark of electricity shoots through her body with his kiss and she knows he feels it to as he pulls her closer to him, kissing her harder. All thoughts of decency or fear of being caught, never enter her mind. All Lyla knows in that moment, all she can sense is Will and how alive she feels. More alive than she's ever felt before. Like a part of her she didn't know was coming to life.

Lyla feels a strange intoxicating heat wash over her as her skin flushes. A breathy sound she's never heard herself make slips past her lips as Will's tongue strokes her bottom lip. The sound of it makes Will clutches Lyla tighter, pulling her flush against him. His other hand tangling into her hair to hold her close as a heavy breath burst from him.

Lyla feel a change in him, a change in the hunger of his kiss and touch, but just as quickly as it's there, it's gone, as Will's hands find the sides of her waist to hold her steady as pulls away to break the kiss.

Will's breath sounds heavy and uneven as his forehead rests against hers. Will's hands release her, but he won't meet Lyla's eyes as he slowly creates more distance with his face hung low.

When he finally looks back up at her there's a dark heated wanting in his gaze. It makes her belly flutter and her skin feel flush, but then Will looks away as he gently pulls her hands free from around his neck.

"I think we betta head back." Will says, his breath deep and husky in a way Lyla's never heard before as he steps around her, snatching up his hat from the ground before heading back toward the event.

Lyla turns to follow him and finds Will waiting, but he doesn't look at her. Lyla's heart would ache if she didn't feel his fingers dance faintly across her wrist as they walk side by side.

It's then that she realizes why Will's keeping his distance, because things were getting heated back there. If either of their Pa's had seen them, surely they would have tanned their hides.

And unlike Johnse and the mess he got Roseanna into, Lyla knows Will would never do anything that could put her in a predicament, that would dishonor her. No matter how badly he may want to.

Moving back toward the festivities Lyla can hear commotion all around. Hollering voices, feet stomping and a deep sense of dread fills her belly.

She'll realize all too soon what's happened to her Pa while she was away and that leaving the woods set wheels into motion she'll never be able to undo.