FF: Slow Surprise (Criminal Minds) JJ/Emily NC-17 2/14
A bath, a nap, and a hot meal courtesy of the little outdoor cafe two streets over had restored most of Emily Prentiss's good humor. Freshly laundered clothing, still smelling of clean powder and sunshine restored the rest. Feeling more like a human being than she had in weeks, Prentiss strapped on the dual Peacemakers, but left the duster on the clothes hook. It was a warm enough afternoon she didn't need it.
One of the many errand boys Miss Penelope had hanging around the saloon had taken Hasiba around back and brushed her down. The horse opened her eyes from her own afternoon nap and gave Emily a look. “I know, I know, I should have brushed you down myself. Once we get settled at the new place, I promise you'll get all the pampering you could want.” The horse snorted. Emily chuckled. “Not good enough, huh? Well, let's see this Derek Morgan about getting you settled for a couple of days at least.”
Following Penelope's directions - obtained only after the other woman had grinned lasciviously and commented “Oh, I sure know where to find Derek Morgan,” - Emily headed toward the east end of town, walking Hasiba by her reins as much to give her own legs a stretch as to let the horse recover from their long journey. The sound of hammer pounding iron let Emily know she'd found the right place.
Furnace billowing heat, coal glowing red in the fire, Emily stopped to watch Derek Morgan pound a horse shoe into better position. Dark skin and muscles slick with sweat strained under a thin cotton shirt as Derek pounded the iron into the curve he wanted, the clang of the metal a steady rhythm of his own as he whistled good-naturedly. She waited until he tossed the shoe into a bucket of water to cool it and wiped his face on a damp rag before calling out.
The blacksmith turned and took her in in one sweeping glance. “You must be the one causing all the chatter around here this mornin',” he grinned.
“My reputation proceeds itself again, I see,” Emily laughed. She offered her hand. “Emily Prentiss.”
He hesitated a moment, unsure of what she intended, and then shook it firmly. “Derek Morgan. Miss Penelope sent you over?”
“She did.”
“Well, then, you must be good people.”
“You think that highly of her opinion,” Emily asked, honestly curious.
“Miss Penelope's good people,” Derek said firmly, as if that explanation was all anyone needed to know. Oddly enough, for Emily, it was.
Behind her, Hasiba neighed, and butted her head into Emily's back. “And this is my horse,” Emily chuckled. “Hasiba.”
Derek whistled softly. “I ain't never seen a horse like that before.”
“She's Arabian.”
“Where's that?”
“You know that desert Moses wandered around for forty years?”
“Whoo boy, that's a long way.” Derek held up his hand, letting Hasiba sniff him experimentally. “How'd she get all the way over here?”
“Strong swimmer.”
Morgan looked at her aghast for all of two seconds before laughing out loud. “Yes'm, I bet she is.”
Emily grinned broadly. She liked Derek Morgan. Liked him even more as she watched him coo over the horse, petting Hasiba and whispering more than just basic flattery. They arranged to board the horse for the next couple of days and shook on the deal.
“Can I ask how long you're plannin' on stayin'?”
“Forever, I think,” Emily answered easily, surprised at herself. There was something innately trustworthy about the man that drew her to him. “I bought a ranch outside of town. I'm on my way now to the bank to finish the paperwork.”
“Congratulations.”
“Well, you might want to wait on those. I have no idea what shape it’s in. I'm just hoping the stock that come with it are cattle and not goats.”
Ten minutes later, following Derek's precise instructions, she found the bank and its manager Mr. Rossi. He stood up politely as she walked into his office, visibly blanching at the guns at her hips. She saw him edge ever so closer to the shotgun propped up in the corner. “Good afternoon, Miss, how may I help you?”
“Good afternoon. I'm here to meet with Mr. Strauss regarding some property I purchased in the area. My attorney made the arrangements in New York. I'm here to take title and possession.”
“Mr. Strauss is out for the day. I'm Mr. Rossi, bank manager. I'd be happy to help you.”
Emily sat and presented the papers in her leather-portfolio: letters from her attorney and Mr. Strauss regarding the sale, her letter of credit with the First Bank of New York, the telegram affirming the sale along with a draft purchase agreement.
“So, you'll be purchasing the property outright then?”
“Yes, as well as establishing an ongoing credit line for improvements and stock.”
Rossi reviewed all the documents. Everything was in perfect order. He glanced once more at the twin guns on the woman's hips and the well-oiled, well-used shine on each of them. This was a woman who expected that everything be in order. “First Bank of New York, that's a fine establishment. Are you from New York?”
“Originally.” There was something in the way she let the one-word answer hang that told Rossi no other answer would be forthcoming. Ever.
“We'll need to sign and execute the contracts. When would you like to take possession?”
“Soon as possible,” Emily answered, eyes narrowing as Rossi blanched. “Is that a problem?”
“No, no problem.”
It was as if a switch had been thrown. Rossi watched as Miss Prentiss sat up a little straighter, her gaze growing sharper, more discerning, and he knew the rough-n-tumble woman who had walked into his bank was not the same woman staring back at him. “I was told the ranch is in livable condition.” The easy Western tone was gone from her voice, replaced with a precise annunciation Rossi remembered hearing decades before when he'd apprenticed in Boston at a large banking house. 'Old money' the clerks would whisper with equal measure reverence and disdain; the tone of voice a way to know the difference between the same two men standing in the same finery. “There is a well on the property. A barn and a homestead with a good roof and four sturdy walls. 100 acres of grazing land, including a stream to water the stock. Was I mislead as to the condition?”
America was changing. When she'd walked in, Rossi had wondered at the letter of credit and how a woman could afford such a purchase as a ranch in Wyoming. Now he knew. “Not in the slightest, Miss Prentiss. It's just as you say.”
She relaxed into the chair, once more the rough-n-tumble woman. “Then let's get on with it.”
*
JJ looked around the homestead, cataloguing what little she had left to pack. The furniture would stay - she had no place to take it and most of it had been hand-me-downs from friends anyway. What little “good” china she had from her mother had been packed. A few books, her father's Bible, Will's Medal of Valor from the war.
Childhood friends had disavowed him when he'd gone North to fight with the Yankees. He'd paid an even steeper price when his father had died, alone, the family business reduced to rubble and ashes as Union troops marched to victory. With nothing left to hold him, Will had gone West, like so many others looking to start over. A job with the rail road had brought him to Mission Springs as they decided on the best route through Wyoming territory. He'd taken one look at JJ and known he was never going to leave.
JJ hadn't nearly been so sure about him, but he'd grown on her, with his easy smile and charm, and when he'd asked her to marry him there'd been no reason to say no.
It didn't matter he'd never been able to afford a wedding ring; every cent they'd earned had gone back into the ranch, which was just how JJ had wanted it. Land and freedom were more important than a gold band.
And still, it hadn't been enough.
She went to Henry, brushing her fingers over his hair, the morning's events once more playing through her mind. Without the reckless abandon of that woman, JJ knew she would have lost him. Funny, she didn't even know the stranger's name, but it felt as if she knew her, as if they'd just been waiting their entire lives to meet and start a conversation. Which was completely silly as the woman hadn't spoken more than a few words to her, and had been, completely rude. And yet... JJ still couldn't stop picturing her eyes. When she got past the terror, when she got past the shock, all she could remember with any clarity at all were the woman's eyes.
Henry stirred. She ran a hand over his back, soothing him with gentle words until he dropped back into slumber. Straightening up, she squared her shoulders and moved to pack what little she had left into her trunks.
*
The morning sun hurt her eyes, as much from the hangover as from the brightness. Emily couldn't remember what Miss Penelope had been pouring last night, but it had been free flowing and she'd enjoyed far too much. She'd try to not make that mistake again.
“Like I said, it's only about a twenty minute ride from town. Longer by wagon of course.”
“Right.”
Emily eyed her surroundings. June, and the scrub grass was still green and healthy. Plenty of birds overhead, and not just scavengers, but predators too, which meant there was plenty of small prey about on the ground. A good, thriving piece of land then, Emily smiled. Just what she'd been hoping for.
“Homestead is just up around this curve,” Mr. Rossi smiled, forcing pleasantness. Emily wasn't sure what about the man she didn't particularly like, but she could tell well enough he was holding something back, and that always put someone on her bad side. She'd spent enough years around politicians, their wives, and society's elite to know when to trust her gut about human nature, and something in the back of her mind screamed a warning about David Rossi.
Hasiba's ears shifted forward. Emily left her musings and took a careful look around her. Nothing seemed out of place, but she knew the mare well enough to know she didn't tense idly. A sound, a shout carried on the wind, and an unhappy snort from Hasiba answered the question definitively. One hand sliding automatically to the butt of her Peacemaker, Prentiss urged the horse faster around the corner, Rossi right behind.
“Stop it, please! Mr. Rossi said I had a few more days!”
“Well, Mr. Strauss says you don't. He hired us to evict you and that's what we're doing.”
“Be careful please-”
JJ's protests went unheeded and her mother's china paid the price as the crate dropped from one of the roughnecks hands and never made it to the other's. Inside the house, Henry wailed in protest as furniture was tossed out the front door.
“Hey! Stop it! Gentlemen please!” The men looked up, dismissed Emily out of hand, chose to ignore Rossi, and went back to tossing things into JJ's wagon. “I work for Mr. Strauss, he told me nothing about an eviction-”
On and on it went, Rossi arguing, JJ cradling Henry as she tried to pick up the pieces of broken china, and the workmen alternately arguing and ignoring them all while they continued to ham-hand a woman's home into the back of a wagon.
“Knock it off!” Prentiss' voice cut through the din, drawing everyone, including Henry to a halt. She cut a slashing look at the workman who had dropped the china, and was currently about to toss a small trunk filled with god-knew-what onto the wagon. “Put it down. Carefully.”
“I don't take orders from you, lady.”
He started to toss it again, the look of horror on JJ's face speaking enough to the fragility and value of the contents, then stopped short as the sound of a .45 being cocked cleared the air. Emily leveled the revolver at the man, the look on her face nothing short of deadly. “This is my land and I said put it down.”
The men did as asked this time around, each of them backing up a good three feet from JJ and the house. Emily un-cocked the weapon, but kept it out of the holster as she dismounted. “Now someone tell me what in the name of all hell is going on here.”
Rossi ran a hand through his beard. “Miss Prentiss, I'm sorry, this is probably my fault...” The look Emily gave him said plainly she was sure it was. “Mrs. Lamontagne is, I mean, was the owner of this property until yesterday when it was officially foreclosed upon. I wasn't aware Mr. Strauss had already put into place a new buyer - you - so I told her she could stay on the property until someone showed up. I figured she'd have a few days more. It was just a kindness, that's all.”
“And you,” Prentiss asked, gesturing toward the biggest of the men.
“Mr. Strauss hired us yesterday. Said we were to evict whoever was still squatting here... anyway we wanted.”
Emily muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously to JJ like savages.
“Where the hell is this Mr. Strauss? I want to talk to him. Now. This isn't how I do business.”
“I'm afraid that's not possible.”
Another voice joined the fray - this time a woman's. Emily knew accents well enough to place the older woman's easily: Philadelphia. She turned, taking in the carriage, the driver, the pounds of petticoat and material the woman wore. Even worse: new money. “And who might you be?”
“Mrs. Erin Strauss. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Prentiss.” She cast a disgusted look at the gun still in Emily's hand. “I'm afraid my husband is under the weather at the moment and unable greet you personally. He sent me in his stead.”
“Was this your idea,” Emily asked, shrugging toward the hulking men.
“Sometimes it is necessary to provide an incentive to vacate the property-”
Prentiss turned, cocking the gun once again and aiming it squarely at the first man who'd dropped the crate of china. “Get off my land. And if I ever see you anywhere near here again, I shoot first and ask questions later. Understood?”
The men glanced at each other, at Mrs. Strauss, and then back to Emily's gun. In just under thirty-five seconds they were mounted up and gone.
“That really wasn't necessary,” Mrs. Strauss sighed.
Emily turned, only barely resisting the urge to give the older woman the same treatment the others had received. “I'll decide what's necessary and what's not around here.” She holstered the gun but kept her hand close to it on purpose. “I was told this land had been abandoned. I was told it had clear title. I paid a thousand dollars to secure this land three weeks ago, which means for the last three weeks you've been taking this woman's money and mine for the same piece of property. That doesn't seem fair to me.”
“Those were back-payments owed.”
Strauss and Prentiss' eyes locked, neither giving an inch. “Mr. Rossi, you manage all the accounts at the bank,” Emily asked, still staring at Strauss.
Not for long, he thought. “Yes ma'am.”
“As you know, my line of credit is going to be depositing a rather large sum of money into your small little bank. I'd hate to think that accounts are so easily un-reconciled. I might have to look at putting my money somewhere else.”
“I'd hate to see that,” Mr. Rossi agreed.
“You know what would ease my mind? I'd like you to do an audit of this land. All payments made the previous owners,” her eyes flicked to JJ for an instant, “to assure no unnecessary or double payments were made. When I've seen written documentation I'll be happy to clear the rest of my money for deposit.”
Rossi looked at Mrs. Strauss, clearly torn. The blonde woman merely nodded. “I see no reason that request can't be accommodated.” He let out a sigh of relief. Offering JJ a guilty smile, he saddled back up on his horse and took up position beside the carriage. “Miss Prentiss, if you need anything else...”
Emily nodded once and turned in dismissal. The carriage pulled away.
Somewhere in the melee Henry had stopped crying and found his way to Hasiba, who was currently butting her nose up against his chubby hand in what appeared to be a cross-species version of patty-cake.
JJ stared at Emily. Emily stared back.
They both moved to start picking up the broken china.
“I don't need a stranger to fight my battles.”
“I don't like being used.”
Their hands brushed as they both reached for the same piece of china. JJ pulled back as if she'd been burned. Emily felt her cheeks flame hot, although she couldn't say why. JJ straightened up hastily, Emily standing just a moment behind.
“I hope you're prepared to give this land everything you have, Miss Prentiss.” She'd heard Mrs. Strauss use the stranger's given name and used it now as a shield against the emotions crumbling inside her. “Because it demands everything you have. Your time, your money, your sweat and blood. And still... sometimes even that's not enough.”
She took the broken pieces Emily handed her and placed them in the wagon, reaching down to lift another trunk into the back, ignoring Emily's offer of assistance. In the background, Henry laughed as Hasiba licked his face.
“You probably know this land better than anybody,” Emily said slowly. “Lived it. Worked it. Sounds like you even grew up around here.”
“I did.”
Prentiss scuffed her boot against a clod of dirt the horses had kicked up. “I can't imagine any hired foreman would know what to do around here any better than you would.”
“No, I can't imagine they would,” JJ agreed, still loading the wagon.
“So, what'd you say then?”
It took JJ a long minute for the offer, such as it was, to sink in. “You want to hire me as your ranch foreman?”
“I'd be doing most of the work myself, but I could use an experienced hand. Can't think of anyone better at the moment.”
“I don't need charity,” JJ snapped, shoving the trunk farther into the wagon and strapping it down. “I have a job. I'm a teacher at the school.”
“It's summer... they still pay you in the summer?” They didn't. The look on JJ's face said as much. “School won't start up again until when? September? October?” JJ nodded. “Those are some long months to get through without steady income.”
“Is this just because you feel guilty about buying my land?”
“Maybe.” Emily smiled, quick and dirty. “And maybe I'm just trying to take advantage of your inside knowledge and cheap salary.”
Despite herself, JJ smiled. “I'll need enough to cover room and board in town.”
“Why? There's a perfectly good homestead not ten feet from you.”
“That belongs to you now,” JJ countered.
“Yes, it does. And I say as part of her salary, my ranch foreman gets to live in it.”
“No, I can't-”
“Can you cook?” JJ gave her a look that answered that question in spades. “I can't,” Emily admitted easily enough. “I'll pay you a fair wage as foreman, room and board included, and extra for my meals.” JJ still didn't look convinced. “Hey, you'd be doing me a favor. Otherwise I'll be eating in town every night and that adds up mighty quick.”
“Where will you live?”
Good question. “I've got a room in town for the moment.”
“Miss Letty's?”
“Uh, no... over at the saloon.”
JJ's eyes went wide. She knew Miss Penelope by sight and they'd been friendly enough to each other as they passed on the street, but propriety dictated nothing more. “You can't stay there! Not while I'm living in your house. People will talk.”
For the first time since arriving in Mission Springs, Emily laughed out loud. “You think people aren't talking about me already?”
“But-”
“What's that over there?”
JJ looked in the general direction of Emily's nod and screwed up her face. “It's a tack shed. Will - my husband - used to keep extra tools there.”
“Looks big enough for a bed. I'll sleep there.”
“Miss Prentiss-”
“-Mrs. Lamontagne?”
“This isn't right. You own this land now. You should be living in the house. You should be gettin' a real foreman to work your cattle.”
“In case you hadn't noticed, I don't put much stock in doing things the usual way.” JJ smirked. That much was obvious. “Don't think this is charity. Truth is, I've priced out experienced foreman and I can guarantee you're gonna cost me less. As for the shed over there... I've stayed in worse places.” She smiled and took a step closer to JJ. “This is the first time I have a chance to do something on my own and I'm not gonna let that pass me by. I'm gonna work hard, and I'm gonna expect the same from you. Can't promise you much except to say I'll be fair and I'll always listen to you. Now, if you think you can work with me, then I say we make a go of it.”
Common sense told her to run screaming. Something she couldn't name told her to stay, whispering again and again you're home.
Emily stuck out her hand. “Deal?”
JJ nodded slowly and slid her hand into the brunette’s, again feeling the burn. This time she didn't pull away but squeezed tighter. “Deal.”
To the side they heard Henry squeal in delight and turned to see Hasiba lift him into the air, her teeth clenched around the scruff of the boys shirt.
“We're going to need to talk about your horse.”
Part Three