FF: Slow Surprise (Criminal Minds) JJ/Emily NC-17 3/14
Emily walked into the saloon and felt every pair of eyes turn to stare at her. She sighed heavily and headed for the bar. Miss Penelope grinned broadly and poured her a drink.
“Apparently news travels fast around here.”
“It does when it comes with a pair of Peacemakers, honey.” Emily took a drink of the whiskey and then a longer one. “That's on the house, by the way.”
“What for?”
Penelope's grin shifted from friendly to predatory in the blink of an eye. “Heard you gave that banker's wife a piece of your mind. Never did like her much. She looks at my girls like they're trash.”
“And how does she look at you?”
“She's smart enough not to look.”
Prentiss chuckled. “Yes, ma'am, I bet she doesn't.”
“So, when'll you be moving out there and leaving my fine establishment?”
“Why? Your customers still nervous?”
“Maybe. But you've only been here a day and you're startin' to become a customer attraction. I may start charging these boys two-bits just to walk in the door.”
“Place needs some work before it'll be ready. I'll need to buy supplies - how's the general store?”
“Oh, Hotch's place?”
“Hotch?”
“Aaron Hotchner, proprietor, general mercantile store,” Penelope said formerly, pouring another whiskey. “People go to him for just about any problem they have around here, so he’s kind of the unofficial ‘mayor.’ Derek calls him 'Hotch,' so I call him that too. They knew each other. In the war,” she continued to explain, this time taking the coins Emily slid across the bar in payment for the liquor. “Hotch came out here about six years ago with his wife, Hailey. Derek followed. I asked him once why he came all the way out here instead of going back to his family in Chicago after the war. He told me Hotch had saved his life, more than once, and where Hotch went, so did he. That's some kind of loyalty,” Penelope sighed dreamily.
Prentiss nodded. “That's some kind of man.” She took a drink, already liking this Aaron Hotchner. Now, she just needed to see his prices. “And what about the school teacher,” she asked casually. “What's her story?”
“Mrs. Lamontagne? She's sweet enough I guess. Looks you in the eye when you see her on the street, which is how I judge most people. Why?”
“I hired her to be my ranch foreman.”
Garcia let out a cackle that had every head in the saloon turning to look at her. “Miss Prentiss, I must say you are going to be the best thing to happen to this town since we got a telegraph!” Still laughing, Penelope reached under the bar and brought out the really good whiskey and poured them each a hefty shot. “To you, my friend, a woman after my own heart.”
Glasses clinked and the rest of the bar went back to its own business as the women made quick work of the whiskey. “You still didn't answer my question. What's her story?”
“Not much to tell s'far as I know. Grew up around here. Parents died young, sister too I think. Her aunt raised her. Every boy in town had a crush on her but she never had a steady fella. Thought she was on her way to being an old maid when she met Will Lamontagne and surprised the hell out of all of us.”
“How'd her husband die?”
“Mining accident. Few miles north of town, up in the hills, there's a small operation. Whole town was real sad when he died. Used to come in for a drink but he never went for my girls. That's a sign of a man who loved his wife.”
Unlike my own father, Emily thought.
“Since you’ve been asking all the questions, you mind if I ask you one?”
“Won't guarantee I'll answer it, but you can ask.”
Penelope smiled, eyes raking over her customer, and Emily could see clearly the keen intelligence the woman kept hidden under layers of lace. “Who do you think you're fooling?”
“Pardon?”
“You walk the walk, I'll give you that. You know how to use those guns, you're too smart to walk around with them as a prop, but you're no gunslinger. And you sure as hell aren't a roughneck cattle hand. So who are you, Emily Prentiss? And what are you doing here?”
“That's three questions.”
“Feel free to answer any of them.”
The brunette finished off the last of her drink. “I'm Emily Prentiss, daughter of John and Elizabeth Prentiss. I bought a ranch and I intend to make it my own, my way. And I don't know or care if I'm fooling anyone else as long as I'm not fooling myself.”
Penelope suspected that was as much of an answer as anyone had ever gotten to those questions, if they'd ever been brave enough to ask in the first place. For now, they would have to be enough.
“Fair enough. Now let me grab my purse - we're going shopping.”
*
The general store was the biggest building in town, except for the church, and the Hotchner's had put every inch of available space to good use. Canned goods, dry goods, tools, clothes, material and millinery all communed harmoniously on the first floor of the store. The second, once divided evenly as storage and living quarters for the young family, was now solely devoted to domestic use as two years before Hotch had purchased the store front next door and expanded his growing empire.
It was nothing like his father's shipping business in New York; a business Aaron had been born and bred to run. Then the War came.
He could have bought his way out.
More than a few of his friends had done so, especially when a few hundred dollars could buy you a medical dispensation, and so many were dying. But not Aaron. He'd been an abolitionist before the war and when Mr. Lincoln had made the call, he'd felt it his moral duty to respond.
His father threatened to disown him if he joined the Union Army.
He shook his father's hand, kissed his mother, and vowed to Hailey that he'd return, and then he'd walked out the door. Four long years he'd spent with the New York 59th. He'd seen rivers of blood flow at Antietam and Gettysburg. He'd been taken prisoner at Petersburg. And when he returned, just as he promised, he couldn't stand the sight of the city. Couldn't bear the crowded streets, couldn't sleep at night for the noise. Hailey never questioned the reason why her husband woke screaming from nightmares, but she knew, in its way, the city was killing him as much as the war.
This time his father's threat to disown him had been real. Aaron had left anyway and never looked back.
Seven years and the nightmares still came, although infrequently. Lean winters and hard work were all he remembered of those first years, but now, watching his son grow, Aaron knew it had been the right decision. Even if the letters to his father still received no answer.
The shop bell rang, drawing him out of his thoughts. Aaron pushed away from his desk at the back of the shop and walked into the main room, eyeing the unlikely pair of women in front of him. “Afternoon Miss Penelope. How can I help you?”
“Afternoon, Hotch. This is Miss Emily Prentiss. She's going to be staying on for a while. Bought the Lamontagne ranch.”
“So I heard,” Aaron said dryly, looking Emily over. She was cleaner than yesterday, days worth of travel and grime washed off and replaced with fresh clothes, but he still wasn't quite sure what to make of a woman who charged a stagecoach to save a child but couldn't manage a simple 'hello' afterward. “Prentiss... that name sounds very familiar.”
“It's common enough-”
“-Her parents are John and Elizabeth, if that means anything,” Penelope offered before a scathing look from Emily had her shutting up.
Something clicked into Aaron's memory. “Ambassador and Mrs. John Prentiss?”
Emily nodded slowly. “How'd you know...”
“I lived in Manhattan. My family owns H&A International Shipping. I worked with the Ambassador several times on my father's behalf when he was in Europe and the Near East. I'm surprised we never met before.”
“I was educated in Europe,” Emily admitted with some embarrassment, her cheeks turning pink. “We travelled quite a bit.”
“Of course,” Hotch nodded, sensing the topic was not one that the woman wanted to discuss further. “So, how may I help you?”
“I'm going to be putting a lot of work into the ranch and I'll need supplies. Lumber, hardware, that sort of thing. Miss Penelope said you were the man to speak with.”
Good business told him to jump at the opportunity; loyalty to JJ had him hesitating.
“She hired Mrs. Lamontagne as the ranch foreman,” Penelope offered, earning another glare from Emily and a dumbfounded gape from Hotchner.
“But... but she's a woman.”
“Your point,” Prentiss asked dryly.
Aaron closed his mouth, unable to find one. He wasn't sure what had brought a diplomat's daughter - a very, very wealthy diplomat's daughter he knew - out to Wyoming, but he was certain she couldn't be lacking for funds. And he knew that even the lowest wage JJ could earn would be better than what she'd been making as school mistress. “Don't really have one.” For some reason, Aaron felt himself smile. “Let's sit down and talk prices.”
*
Three days and JJ had seen neither hide nor hair of her new boss and landlord. Not that she was complaining - not at all. She had plenty to do around the ranch. There were cattle to be fed and fences to check and a son who was too smart and too fast for his own good. With all that to tend to there was no reason for her to even notice, or care, that Emily Prentiss hadn't felt the need to come out to the ranch for three whole days. No reason at all.
Which didn't explain at all why she felt her heart stutter when she heard the tell-tale sound of hooves and neighing. She walked out onto the porch just as Emily slid off her horse. “Afternoon.”
“Afternoon,” Emily repeated, slinging Hasiba's reins over the post and giving the horse a soft command not to wander off. Hasiba gave her a look that said she'd consider Emily's request, but wasn't making any promises. “Where's Henry?”
“Down for a nap. Finally. He has more energy than a locomotive.”
“Funny you should mention that,” Emily smiled. She pulled out a small, craved steam engine from her pocket and handed it awkwardly to JJ. “Thought he might like this.”
JJ took the gift, smiling back at Emily. The gesture was sweet, a stark contrast to the woman who had just days before stood in the yard and threatened two men with a pistol. “Thank you... did you make this?”
“Oh, hell no,” Emily laughed, “I was over at the livery and Derek had a bunch he'd carved up on a shelf. He never thought of selling them 'til I offered to buy one. I talked to Hotch and he's gonna put them in the general store.”
“'Hotch,' huh?” Emily ducked her head at the familiarity, long-ingrained manners and her mother's voice internally chastising her. “You seem to be settling in well enough with everyone.”
“Well, not everyone.” She and Mr. Rossi had made peace, but she'd yet to meet Mr. Strauss and was fairly certain that Mrs. Strauss would've had her run out of town if Emily's name hadn't come attached with a very large bank draft. As for the rest... well, most had kept their distance, which suited Emily just fine. “Sorry it's been a few days, I had some business to take care of.”
“Ranch business?”
“A bit.”
“I guess we should talk about that then... can I offer you a cup of coffee?”
“You can more than offer,” Emily grinned, climbing the short stairs up onto the porch before following JJ into the homestead. It was bigger inside than she expected, and though the furniture was simple, well-tended. A family lived here, loved here. The thought made Emily ache.
JJ set the coffee percolating on the stove and checked one more time on Henry before coming back to the kitchen table where Emily had taken up residence comfortably enough. “So what was the ranch business?”
“Setting up letters of credit at the bank and the general store for supplies. We're gonna need to make some improvements.”
“You haven't even looked around the land yet. How do you know what we need?”
“I don't,” Emily answered steadily. “But I wanted to hear the prices first so I can prioritize. And I wanted to make sure they weren't going to go up once I did take a look around.”
“You think Aaron would try to cheat you?”
“I did before I met him.”
JJ laughed dryly. “Fair enough.” She got up and poured them each a cup of coffee, adding sugar to both. “He's a good man, you know. This is a good town.”
“I know.” Emily took a sip of coffee, smiling. “This is a damn good cup of coffee.”
“Thanks for the compliment, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't curse around my boy.”
“Right. Sorry.”
“Just when he's around is all,” JJ clarified. “Hard enough raising a boy by myself. Gets even harder when every other miner comes down out of the hills to town with no manners and too much whiskey. When do you want to take a look 'round the land?”
“How about tomorrow? I, uh, took the liberty of asking Mrs. Hotchner for you already. She said she could be by first thing in the morning.”
“Well, you've just got everything all planned out, don't you?” The comment was gently reproving, with more than a hint of amusement behind it. Emily found herself blushing again for no particularly identifiable reason except the hint of a smile on JJ's lips.
“S'pose I do. At least in theory.”
“Well, I'd hate to ruin your plans. Tomorrow it is then.” Emily's smile nearly lit up the room; JJ couldn't help but smile back and ask impulsively, “You up for tryin' some of my cooking?”
“I make it a policy never to turn down an offer of food.”
“Good, then you can stay for dinner.”
*
Chicken and dumplings. Simple enough fare, but Emily hadn't enjoyed a meal that good in years, something she'd told JJ more than once. The company sure as hell hadn't been bad either, Emily thought as she pushed through the saloon doors and received a nod of recognition from Kevin at the bar. The barman was getting used to her, something that couldn't be said for some of the regular patrons of Miss Penelope's who barely gave her more than a hostile glare before turning back to their drinks.
Penelope waved her over from the back poker table, smiling brightly at the pile of coins in front of her. Beth was perched on a man's lap who seemed more interested in her cleavage than the cards in front of him - which Emily assumed, was the entire point.
“Evening, ladies,” Prentiss greeted, ignoring the disdainful looks from the men.
“Evening, Miss Emily,” Beth smiled, delicately shifting the man's hand off her breast back to her waist. “You had dinner yet? I can run out for something if you want-”
“I've eaten,” Emily answered with some regret. “Mrs. Lamontagne-”
“Oh. Right.”
Penelope let her eyes shift from her cards long enough to take in Beth's disappointed look and filed it away for a later conversation. The last thing she needed was one of her girls getting soft on a patron. “Join us for a hand,” Penelope offered, pointing to an empty chair. The man holding onto Beth cursed something unintelligible and spat on the floor, missing the spittoon entirely. “You gotta problem with that Harry?”
“Not as long as the bitch's money's good,” he grumbled, shifting Beth higher onto his lap to grind against her, his hands wandering places Emily really didn't need to see his hands wander.
Penelope shifted her fan in one swift movement and smacked the grizzled miner upside the head. “Either pay up and get a room or behave yourself and play.”
Harry settled Beth on his lap and grumbled something else then tossed in his ante. “Let's play.”
“Good choice.”
Harry looked up, sneering at Emily again. “You in or out?”
She should've gone to bed, there was a long day of riding ahead of her in the morning, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. “I'll play a few hands.”
Penelope hid a smile behind her cards. “Then sit down honey and we'll deal you in.”
A 'few hands' turned into several hands, especially once Emily started winning more and more of Harry's money. Perhaps she should've felt guiltier about taking what was obviously the man's wages for the week and probably all he had to live on, but every time his hands went wandering up Beth's skirt or down her corset what pity she felt fled. A few men had joined and then quickly left the table once it was apparent Emily's luck was going to hold for the night, until the only ones left were Penelope, Harry, Emily, and another miner who had passed out half-way through the hand.
Emily tossed a dollar's worth of coin onto the pot. “Raise.”
Harry looked down at the remaining few coins in his pile, about sixty cents all told, and then the pair of kings in his hand. He shoved the last of his money into the pile. “I call.”
Penelope matched the bet and sat back, cursing when Harry's pair of kings out did her pair of jacks.
The miner reached for the pot, stopping just short as Prentiss tossed not one, not two, but three aces onto the pile. “Sorry, Harry.”
“You cheatin' whore!”
The table was upended, Beth dumped to the floor as Harry pulled a knife and lunged at Emily. He didn't make it a full step before both Peacemaker's were drawn, one of them smoking as she fired a perfect shot that split open his right hand, the knife dropping to the floor. Behind the bar, Kevin cocked a double-barreled shotgun and leveled it at the room, eyeing anyone who might be thinking of taking Harry's side.
“Don't be stupid,” Prentiss hissed coldly. “Just walk away. I'm not in the mood to kill anyone tonight.”
“You shot my hand, you stupid cu-”
Another shot, this time less than an inch from his boot and fired from her left-hand Colt. “Harry, I'm warning you. You know I didn't cheat you, so just get out and we'll forget this ever happened.”
Drunk and stupid was a bad combination on most days, but Harry's pride was hurt, which made things even more dangerous. Prentiss saw him shift, saw him close the fist on his left hand, and knew that stupidity had won the day.
He swung for her, landing a glancing blow which she took standing up before flipping her gun around and smacking the butt first across his face and then down on the back of his head, knocking him out cold.
She turned, guns cocked again and ready for whoever might be lurking, but the rest of the saloon patrons seemed stunned, and begrudgingly impressed. Slowly, Emily put the guns back in their holsters as Kevin lowered the shotgun off the rest of them. A couple of regulars grabbed Harry up and hauled him out the front door. Emily bent down and helped Beth back up to her feet as Penelope straightened up the table.
“You all right?”
“Better now,” Beth smiled shyly. “'Course, I just lost a night’s worth of pay, but it was worth it.”
Prentiss stooped down and grabbed a handful of coins, pressing them into Beth's hands. “That ought to make it worth your while.”
“No, no, I couldn't. You won those-”
“And I can do what I want with them.”
Beth's eyes shifted just enough to take in the rather displeased look on Penelope's face. She took a reluctant step back from Emily and pushed the coins back into her hand. “I don't take charity.”
“It's not…”
But there was no arguing with Beth as she turned and pinning her sights on the last of the men still scrounging around the bar, went to promise him a night of heaven for just the right price. Emily shoved the coins into her pocket and accepted the rest Penelope handed her.
“Let's have a drink.” It wasn't really a request, so Emily went along to the bar. Kevin just slid them the bottle and two clean glasses before he went back to wrapping up the night’s business. Penelope raised her glass in silent toast. “I knew you were gonna be trouble, Emily Prentiss. I just knew it.” She took a drink. “She's sweet on you.”
“I haven't done anything-”
“I know,” she interjected. “Which is the reason I'm still being civil.” Penelope finished her drink and poured another. “Most of my girls know how lucky they are to be here and not at one of those whore-tents up at the mining camps. Up there, those men are as likely to take what they want as pay you fair. Beth don't know any better.”
Emily took a drink. “That's a hard lesson to learn.”
“And you're not makin' it any easier, coming in here like you are. Giving her ideas. Ideas about the kindness in this world that don't exist for girls like her.”
“Or you,” Prentiss added softly.
“You may not believe me, but I live by my own code out here, and I teach these girls best I can how to survive. It ain't often fair, but it is what it is. Someone like you gives 'em ideas this world could be a whole different place than what it is and that's not right.”
“'We are what we think. All that we are arises with our thoughts. With our thoughts we make the world.'“ Penelope gave her a curious look. “Just something I read once,” Emily explained, taking another drink. “I just want to live my life, on my land, and be left alone. I've spent years trying to figure out who I am and what I want and it hasn't been easy. I'm not looking to cause an uproar.”
“Then we understand each other.”
“Yeah,” Emily agreed, taking the last of her drink. “I guess we do.” She set the glass down and turned to find Beth trying to entice one of the regulars back to her room. It looked like they were haggling over the price.
The red head turned as Emily walked over and pressed the coins back into her hand. “I said I don't take charity.”
“I got that message already. Maybe you're missing mine?”
Beth glanced down at the stack of coins in her hand; it was more than enough to buy her services for the entire night. Hell, two nights. The momentary pang of hurt was soothed by the knowledge she wouldn't have to hustle for piss-drunk, sweaty miners. “No, honey, I think we understand each other real well.” She gave her regular a sweet smile and wound her arm through Emily's, meeting Penelope's gaze steadily now as the two went upstairs.
Penelope corked the whiskey, shooed the rest of her regulars out, and closed the bar up tight. Kevin sidled up behind her, his arms slipping around her waist, mouth at her ear. “Till's locked in the safe already and I'm ready to spend the next hour kissing every inch of your body... I'll start with a foot rub and work my way up.” He nibbled along her neck, getting a head start. “How's that sound?”
Penelope turned, sliding her arms around him and kissing him softly. “You're a good man, you know that?”
“Feel free to remind me as many times as you'd like.”
“I plan on doing just that.”
Part Four