Disclaimer: I am not SM. She owns Twilight and all the characters. I'm simply here because I like to have fun with them! SM is one lucky woman. I only wish I could be as successful. (Ok, I only wish I owned the rights to Twilight and all of its glorious characters… Especially Jasper… Mmm…)
I wanted to thank everyone who reviewed on my first fanfic (and one-shot), Preacher's Daughter. It wasn't perfect, I know, but it was my first one. The reviews for it, and the encouragement made me smile many times over (: THANK YOU!
It is a rated M fic, but the lemons will be in later chapters. After all, it is the 1860s!
"Let's give them something to talk about babe
A little mystery to figure out
Let's give them something to talk about
How about love?"
Something to Talk About by Bonnie Raitt
Jasper POV
I groaned as I looked over the mountain of scattered plans on my desk. Maybe I was in over my head with the whole railroad business. I mean, just because my father was a prominent figure in our town didn't mean I had to take on matters bigger than I could handle. Right?
I ran my fingers through my hair. As of currently it was a blonde color, but I was fairly certain that by the time I had processed the awful amount of work expected from me, it would turn as gray as the old mare's mane.
The light reaching through my office windows had darkened in hue, casting my office into shades of dark orange and pink. I reached into my suit pocket and removed my gold plated pocket watch. I flipped it open and rubbed my forehead with my free hand when I saw the time: half past eight. Just as I'd closed and returned my watch to the confines of my pocket, there was a knock on my door.
"Come in," I mumbled, not bothering to ask who it was. I had a set list of people who were allowed past the front entrance, so I knew there was no danger.
My friend Emmett poked his head around the door. "Jasper, come bend an elbow with me! Eddie's bar tending tonight, so we can get full as a tick, kick up a row, and not be thrown out! It's a golden opportunity!" He was nodding his head as if this was the greatest idea in the world. His brown eyes were shining with a type of mischief that I wasn't quite sure I wanted to engage in tonight.
"I'm not sure, Emmett," I sighed. "I have a lot of work to catch up on. The railroad isn't going to build itself, you know."
"And it ain't gonna be built any faster if you don't back down a little bit," Emmett said, stepping into my office. "Look, you're doing a bang-up job here, we can all see that, but you need to back down unless you wanna end up in a bone orchard." His grammar always seemed to get worse the more worked up he was.
But even I had to admit that Emmett had a point. The hours I was putting in sitting behind my desk drawing up plans hadn't made the track-layers work any faster. Nothing was on schedule anyway, so what was one little break going to affect? Surely I deserved at least one night to myself.
"Alright, Emmett," I settled. I watched his face light up, reflecting the grin that was already present in his eyes.
"Whoo! I knew you'd agree," Emmett smiled. "Better bring your spare aces 'cause ya know James is gonna have his poker game going and I'm sure a few of the older men will be playing some Three-Card-Monte."
"I have no need to bilk, Emmett," I scoffed at his idiocy. "Besides, I'm not betting. I'm in no position to lose money at this stage of the railroad's development." Emmett rolled his eyes.
"Pony up, boy! We're off!" It was my turn to roll my eyes at Emmett. He had a tendency to get a little over enthusiastic at times.
Emmett and I left my office and headed down the short hallway to the main entrance. I nodded to the guys in charge of my building's security before Emmett and I slipped out the front door.
Emmett's horse was tied to the outside post. The beautiful bay gelding was his pride and joy; he'd trained it himself. My dun gelding, Duke, was posted right next to him. I walked over to his side and patted his neck.
"Sorry to have kept you out here all day," I murmured, watching his ears turn towards my voice. He snorted and tossed his head, which showed me he was just anxious to get going. Staying in one place had never been one of his strong suits, but Duke was a good horse and would stay where you put him. "An earth tremor couldn't make his legs buckle," his trainer had told me. I untied his reins from the hitching post and put them behind his neck.
"Come on, Jasper! At the rate you're goin' we'll be lucky to get there a second before James packs up his cards!" Emmett called to me from atop his horse. I shook my head and pulled myself into the saddle, giving Duke a squeeze to his gut to make him go.
When Emmett and I reached the saloon, I knew immediately it was a bad idea to have come out here tonight. I saw the painted sign with the establishment's name and shook my head.
"Bull's Head, Emmett?" I asked, feeling my jaw drop in surprise. "Edward's working at Bull's Head?" I couldn't believe it. Bull's Head Saloon had a reputation, and not a good one at that. It had been the focal point of town rumors and duels between angry, drunk poker players since its opening.
"Sure," Emmett shrugged, halting his horse and dismounting. "Ever since his daughter came down with the consumption, he's been taking as many jobs as he can to pay for the medical bills. A disease like that ain't a cheap one to cure."
"But here? Of all the places he could tend, he's taking work here?" I asked still a little put off. I dismounted and hitched Duke to an available post. Emmett watched me carefully as we walked into the saloon.
"He's going to make some pretty good money tonight, Jasper. It's going to be as hot as a whorehouse on Friday's nickel night," he smiled to himself.
"It is Friday," I scowled, "and this is practically a whorehouse."
"It's a saloon with entertainment. Plus, not all of us were blessed with flourishing businesses. We can't all slave away, hurting our poor little hands, drawing up complicated track plans for the railroad," he said as we entered the saloon. The public area wasn't terribly huge with many candles used for lighting.
"Not all of us were asked whether or not we wanted to be blessed," I mumbled to myself. Emmett looked at me and shook his head. I knew to some people I must have seemed ungrateful. I wasn't ungrateful; the good Lord knew I prayed every night and thanked him for my job. It was just that sometimes I wished I wasn't so blessed. The responsibility that came with such a demanding occupation was sometimes overwhelming. But, then again I was thankful.
"Emmett!" The familiar voice of the ace-high, poker playing boss called from a table located over in a corner of the room.
"James," Emmett said, nodding his head in acknowledgement. I followed behind Emmett as he walked over to the table. Emmett sat down and took a seat alongside him.
"Come to lose another game or two?" James asked, an evil grin spreading across his face. His dirty blonde hair hung in a pony-tail behind his back, lying against the dirty blue flannel shirt he was wearing.
"Lose? Is that a bluff, or do you mean it for real play?" Emmett laughed at his own joke. James's grin spread wider.
"I don't bluff. Haven't a need too," James retorted. I rolled my eyes. Anyone with a lick of sense knew not to play against James. He was the worst chiseler known in these parts. "Jasper," he grinned at me now, "you in or out?"
"I'm going to go get us a couple of beers," I told Emmett, ignoring James's invite. Emmett nodded and as I walked away I heard him tell James to deal him in. That man would never learn.
As I approached the bar, I saw Edward, busy at work. He was pouring beers rapidly and passing them down along the counter top. His copper colored hair was in disarray, more so than usual.
"Hey, Edward," I called over the roar of the drunks sitting next to me. He looked up and smiled, handing me a fresh beer he had just poured. "Rough night?" He nodded slowly.
"You have no idea," he sighed. "And once the girls come on, it's just going to get worse." He shook his head, showing he didn't want to continue down that path of conversation anymore. "How are things coming along with your line of work?"
"Same old, same old. I draw up plans and it takes two to three months for the track layers to actually act on any of them. And that's the least time it usually takes them," I gave a faint smile. "But it's work, so what are you gonna do?" I threw in a shrug, lifting the mug of beer to my lips and taking a sip.
"Probably better than working here," Edward groaned, lifting up a sleeved arm to wipe the sweat forming on his brow.
"How's Renesme doing? Any word?" I asked. The look in Edward's eyes showed me all I needed to know before he spoke. My dad may be the town's doctor, but he never discussed the patients' personal matters with anyone. Therefore, I knew nothing about how my friend's daughter was faring.
"Carlisle says he doesn't think he's seen a worse case of the consumption and Isabella's worried sick. If she keeps this up, I'm going to have to pay two sets of medical bills," his face was solemn. I shook my head, taking another sip of my beer.
"I'm sorry, Edward. You know if there's anything I can do to help, let me know," I told him honestly. However, I knew my offer was not going to be accepted. Edward never took anything he knew he couldn't pay back.
"Thanks, but I'm making it okay. I'm two payments away from paying him off for the last visit. Even with his discount, it was still a lot of money that we don't exactly have. But, I'll probably make that tonight if enough comes in," he attempted a smile but behind his smile was a whole lot of worry.
"Here, Edward," I said as I pushed five dollars across the counter towards him. He gawked at it like it was some kind of foreign object.
"Jasper… I can't take this," he said, trying to push it back towards me. I just shook my head. "But, I can't take it, Jasper," he continued.
"Give me a beer for Emmett, don't charge me for this one, and we'll call it even, okay?" Edward nodded, taking the deal. He knew the five dollars was still way more than the two beers, but he consented. We were both stubborn as a pack of mules and I guess that's why we were such good friends.
A "Yee-Haw!" sounded from behind me. I turned around and saw five girls standing on the raised platform in the middle of the saloon; their skirts were hiked up as they started to dance, twirling and sashaying. Whistles and rude comments flew from the drunks around me. I did my best to ignore it, but the gentleman in me wanted to hurt these men. It was so degrading to those women.
"Here's the beer for Emmett," Edward said. I turned back around and thanked him. He shook his head, unyielding. "No, Jasper, thank you." I smiled and gave him a little wave before making my way back to the table.
Alice POV
"Come on, Alice! Open up!" My sister Rosalie called, banging on the door to our room, which I had successfully blocked her out of. I screamed into a pillow I had clutched to my face. "ALICE!" She pounded on the door.
"Go away, Rose!" I shouted into the dark of our room. I was done. I was finished. There was no way I was going to dance tonight. I'd just run away… I could do it this time, I knew I could.
"Alice, I'm giving you three seconds!" Rose screamed, "Three seconds Alice, or I'm busting this door down!" I groaned, rolling over on the small cot I called a bed. Three… Two… One…. Our door swung open with a loud crack as it hit the wall. So much for my successful barricade, I groaned inwardly. "Alice, get up! We've got two minutes until show time!" Rose walked over to my bed, her heels clicking on the wood floors.
"I'm not going, Rose. I'm sick of dancing. That's all we do is dance! I'm destined for bigger things! I just know it!" I heard Rosalie groan.
"Yes, I know Alice. We're all meant for more and blah, blah, blah. But let me tell you something! What we have here is the closest thing we've got to a job. We're never going to be able to be taken seriously with our backgrounds. Face it, this is it. There is no higher road for us."
"There is! There has to be!" I cried. I felt the bed sink down next to me. Rose reached out a hand to brush some of my hair back.
"It never hurts to dream, but dreams aren't reality for us. This is what we're made for," Rosalie said, her hand brushing along my cheek now. "And we really do have to get out there. The boss is going to get upset." I inhaled deeply, trying not to think of that sick excuse for a man.
"Is there anybody out there for me?" I asked into the dark of our room. It was a random question, but I needed an answer. I needed to know that I could be something more than a late night saloon dancer. I could practically feel Rosalie grinning before she answered my question.
"There's someone for everyone, even simple saloon girls like us," she said, moving her hand back to my hair. "You know that guy, Emmett? He's friends with the bartender tonight, Edward?" I nodded, knowing she could feel the movement. "Well, I think he's beating around the bush, but I can tell we've got something…. I don't know what yet, but there is something. Ever since that show a few weeks ago…."
I sat up suddenly, the fabric of my dress crinkling under me. "Rosalie Hale! Do not tell me you are thinking of going steady with Emmett McCarthy!" I heard the fabric of her dress move and knew she had shrugged her shoulders.
"If I can get the boss to let me," she said. "I know it's a stretch, but he's seen us together before, so maybe it won't be so-"
"Rosalie, Alice! We have to go on!" Victoria, one of the other dancers, called from the door.
"Let's go," Rose said, pulling me up and off the bed. I groaned but followed her out anyway.
We met up with the other three dancers, Jessica, Lauren, and Victoria. They weren't exactly what I'd call homey people. Rosalie and I had had some issue with each of them during our employment. I looked around and took in our outfits. Typical, I thought to myself.
My dress was emerald in color with a deep scoop neck across my chest. The bodice was tight; corset lacing tied it in the back. My skirt was fluffy and flowed to my ankles. I had black detailing around the edge of my dress. My short, almost black in color hair was pulled back from my face with a hairpiece that had a black feather sticking out from the top. I wore the typical black heeled shoes that every other girl was wearing.
Rosalie's dress was far prettier; at least that's what Ithought. Her dress was a ruby red with the corset in the front. It had black feathers stitched to the seams and her skirt had a long slit in it which accented her long legs. Her beautiful blonde hair had taken hours to curl last night, but it turned out lovely, framing her face in little ringlets. She had a hairpiece too, except it was a bright red feather.
The other three girls were wearing dresses similar in style. Victoria's was a striking gold, Lauren's was a dark blue, and Jessica's was a light purple. Not exactly the best color scheme, but with a man in charge, you couldn't expect much.
We all walked up onto the ridiculous excuse for a stage and Rose let out a great, "Yee-Haw!" to kick start our performance. The piano music started playing and we danced our number. Our multi-colored skirts flew around us as we did our usual routine. I tried my best to ignore the catcalls and whistles from the half drunken regulars. We did two numbers, and an encore, earning a deafening applause from the crowded room.
When everything was over, we climbed off the stage. Lauren, Victoria, and Jessica ran off to find some poor, disoriented customer in hope of getting some tips. Rose spotted Emmett and left to go talk to him. I was alone, in a saloon full of drunken men.
"Hey, Darlin', great show." I flinched as my boss's hands wrapped around my waist from behind me. "I'd love to see an encore. Maybe you'd give me a private showing later t'night?" He whispered into my ear, trailing a dirty finger up the length of my neck. I shuddered, disgusted.
"No," I said defiantly. I'd never given him a private encore and I never would. If it was one thing this job hadn't taken from me, it was my dignity. I was still a lady somewhere underneath this revealing dress and corset.
"Excuseyou? How dare ya talk to me like that?" He spun me around, his eyes burning with anger. His whole appearance disgusted me. From his long, dirty blonde hair to his hardly ever washed clothes. He was no more than a bunko artist. His grip on my wrist was bone crunching and I tried to wiggle out of it.
"Let me go, James!" I cried, trying to wrench my wrist from his hand again.
"Hell no, Alice. You belong to me! When ya signed that contract, ya signed over yourself," he smirked. "Which means if I want an encore, you are goin' to give me an encore."
"No!" I cried, trying to back away from him now.
"I don't believe that's anyway to be treating a lady," I heard someone say before James was whipped around, his back now facing me, and his grip on my wrist released.
"She belongs to me, I can do whatever the hell I want to do to her," James said to the stranger.
"Oh, you've got some game, haven't you, James? You think you just own everything, don't you?" The stranger continued. I stood in shock, watching as Emmett, the guy Rose was infatuated with walked up next to James.
"I suggest you make yourself scarce before we have ourselves a difficulty on our hands," he grumbled. James took a step back, bumping into me.
"She's mine; she's a dancer under my company!" James continued. "I have a contract!" He yelled loud enough to be heard the next town over.
"You can take your contract and use it as fertilizer. You and your contract are both slimy pieces of shit," I heard Emmett grumble.
"Just go before we have to make you go," the stranger growled. James turned to look at me and I'd never seen such a mixture of emotions. On the one hand he looked scared; on the other hand he looked enraged. I knew this was far from over. I watched James walk away, back to a corner of the bar.
"Are you okay, Miss?" I turned to face the stranger. My eyes did a double take. I'd seen him before, with Carlisle Cullen, the town doctor. He had wild locks of honey blonde hair and the most gorgeous blue eyes I had ever seen. He was dressed far too formal for a saloon; gray slacks, a white dress shirt, and a charcoal vest with a gold pocket watch chain peeking out from the pocket. Not to mention his shiny black shoes. I glanced down at my dress, embarrassed again.
"Yes, thank you," I said after finally finding my voice, not daring to look back up at the man.
"Oh, Alice! Are you okay?" Rosalie ran up to me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders in a tight hug. I smiled at my overly concerned sister.
"I'm fine, Rosalie. Emmett," I gestured to Emmett who looked surprised that I knew who he was, "and, uh, I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name." I said to the stranger who had rescued me from my poor excuse for a boss.
"Jasper Whitlock, ma'am," he said politely, giving me a slight bow. I felt my cheeks flush a little.
"And Mr. Whitlock," I continued, "got to James before he could do any real harm. I'm fine, Rose, really." I threw in a convincing pat on her arm.
"Thank you guys," Rosalie said, glancing at Jasper before returning her gaze to Emmett. "You have no idea how hard it is to be girls like us."
I grimaced as she said the last part. Girls like us, I thought. We were basically the social outcasts. We couldn't go to the market without being stared at by men and women alike. Men gave us flirty, dirty looks, while women just scowled at us. We had gotten many a lecture from the older women of the town. They viewed us as a form of corruption.
But it wasn't like I could help my situation. The other women always made it sound so simple: Get married, have a couple of children, live a long, happy life with your husband. But my life was far from being that perfect.
Rosalie and I had hardly any choice in the matter of our fate. Our parents, whom we never talked about (even between ourselves), had sold us to James when we had come of age. He had paid them a nice sum apparently because they were able to afford to get away from here.
"Well, it shouldn't matter what kind of ladies you are," Mr. Whitlock said. "It still isn't right to be treating any woman that way. I can guarantee you there will be retribution." I looked at him, sure that my shocked expression was very fitting of a 'lady'.
"No, sir, I couldn't possibly-"
Emmett cut me off, "James is between hay and grass. I'm positive mentally, but I'm pretty damn sure physically too!" Rose and I exchanged a wide eyed glance.
"Emmett," Mr. Whitlock hissed, "you shouldn't cuss in front of women."
"Aw bosh," Emmett said. "I'm sure they've heard worse. Right, ladies?" He flashed a wide grin at Rosalie. I watched in astonishment as her cheeks ignited. Rosalie never blushed.
"Sure, being around James is way worse than the occasional curse word from any man at this place," she said, smiling back. I glanced at Jasper and saw him scowling. The sight was so menacing, yet it was so entrancing at the same time. I wondered how one man could wield this kind of power.
"Rose, I'm tired," I told her. I wasn't lying, she could see this. Today had been an emotionally draining day. My breakdown earlier, the show, the thing with James, and now these new emotions bubbling inside me towards Mr. Whitlock, the stranger turned acquaintance, who had literally rescued me from the filthy clutches of my boss. "I think I'm going to head back now."
"I'll be in later, but I'll be there," she said, smiling at me. I nodded and started to walk away from the group.
"Wait!" I heard Mr. Whitlock call after me. I turned around to face him. "May I escort you home?"
I was stuck. I really hated to part from him, but I didn't want him to see the confined little room Rosalie and I called home. I lowered my eyes and shook my head slowly.
"I-I can't accept," I said softly. I looked up for a second as saw this questioning worry in his eyes. "I'm sorry." I turned and took off; hoping the crowd of people hid me from his sight as I ran towards the back of the saloon.
So… thoughts would be nice… Reviews would be appreciated… I've okayed anonymous reviews, so you don't have to sign in (but if you want a reply back, sign in!)
Here are some of the slang terms in this chapter that you might not be familiar with:
(In the order they appear in)
As gray as the old mare's mane: Taken from the child song "The Old Gray Mare", a simile
Bend and elbow: have a drink
As full as a tick: drunk
Kick up a row: stir up trouble
Back down: relax
Bang-up job: great job
Bone orchard: cemetery
Bilk: cheat
Pony up: Hurry
Consumption: Pulmonary Tuberculosis
Hot as a whorehouse on nickel night: busy
Ace-high: important, well known
Is that a bluff, or do you mean it for real play: are you serious
Lick of sense: tiniest bit of knowledge
Chiseler: cheater
Stubborn as a pack of mules: extremely stubborn
Bunko artist: con man
Got game: have nerve
Difficulty: bad situation, usually including the use of guns closure
Between hay and grass: not a boy, not a man
Bosh: nonsense
THANKS FOR READING CHAPTER 1!
Sammie'sgirl