A/N: Surprise! Yes, I know. I said I was taking the summer off from "The Mentalist," but I literally thought of this story idea in the middle of the night, and it wouldn't let me sleep. I'm also so excited about this story that I'm doing another thing I've never done—write two multi-chapter fics at once (I'm still writing my "Moonlight" story, fyi).
So now, to this story. It will challenge your credulity, being set in 1870 California. Extreme AU stories don't seem to be as popular in this fandom, as say, in the "Buffy-verse," but when done right, I adore those stories that have Buffy and Spike in Victorian England, or in another dimension. If an author can keep the characters true, the stories fun and/or challenging, then they can be highly entertaining, and you suspend your disbelief because you love the characters no matter in what time or place you find them. That being said, I ask that you embark with me on this challenge I've set for myself with an open mind. I will try to make it amusing and romantic, and keep the basic motivations of the characters the same. You'll recognize situations and characters as I try to present them in (I hope) surprising ways.
If you are a Sacramento historian, (or a historian of any kind) please give me a little latitude as I sacrifice historic details for the sake of storytelling. This is meant to be an homage to old western movies (and a little bit of the musical, "The Music Man"), so many of the roles and situations are intentionally stereotypes of that genre. This is all for fun and my own personal experiment. Thanks for taking a chance and opening up to this first chapter. I hope you won't be disappointed.
She Wore a Red Ribbon
Chapter 1
Sacramento, 1870
Miss Teresa Lisbon departed the schoolhouse at four o'clock, having finished marking her students' mathematics tests, preparing her reading lesson for the next day, and erasing the blackboard. She was tired from being on her feet all day, and dealing with little Benjamin Jones was wearing on her nerves. She made a mental note to visit his parents tomorrow after school if his behavior didn't change. It was difficult enough for a such diminutive woman to maintain control of thirty students of varying age levels without having a distraction like eight-year-old Benjamin, pulling Lizzie's Thompson's hair, or shooting peas at her back when she was turned to the chalkboard. Sitting him in the corner, a spanking with the paddle, or making him beat the erasers only seemed to reward his bad behavior. She shook her head in frustration. Yes, a visit to Mr. and Mrs. Jones seemed the only recourse now.
Miss Lisbon put on her tasteful little bonnet and began her walk toward her family home, deep in thought about her next day's lessons. She heard the commotion even before she saw what was causing it. Cheers and laughter, applause, and generally excited buzzing emitted from many of her fellow citizens as they gathered round a covered horse cart. She shook her head in consternation as she got close enough to see what was emblazoned on the side of the cart: Patrick Jane's World-Famous, Amazing Elixirs! The permanent stage in the center of the town square, sometimes used for political speeches, summer plays or musicales, had been commandeered by the man she assumed was Patrick Jane himself. He wore a fine blue suit and vest, and a white linen dress shirt. Tied at the neck was a black ribbon knotted in a western bow. A gray cowboy hat lay on the podium beside him, so everyone could marvel at the wavy golden hair that seemed to glow about his head like an angel's halo.
"Now, ladies and gentlemen," he said in his best showman's voice. "Let me direct you to the most famous and effective of all my amazing elixirs. Behold, The Elixir of Love!" He held up a small bottle with a bright red label, decorated with gold pictures of hearts, cherubs and intertwined roses.
There was a gasp from the women, some of whom promptly began fanning their faces in shock, and a few amused chuckles from the men.
"What does it do?" asked a young woman, rather breathlessly.
Jane turned his brilliant smile upon the lady, who promptly began fanning herself even more desperately.
"What does it do? Why, ma'am, just a few precious drops from The Elixir of Love and you will have any man you desire practically eating out of your hands. He won't be able to stop himself from pursuing you until you agree to be his one and only love. I guarantee a marriage proposal within a year."
There were feminine titters of laughter. When the men began grumbling in protest, Jane turned his charm onto the men too. "Gentlemen, don't despair! It works on women too!" He waggled his eyebrows comically, grinning wickedly. The men nudged each other, some of the younger lads letting loose randy whistles and cat calls.
"For just twenty-five cents, this and any of my other elixirs can be yours, to change your life in a matter of days."
Despite his best efforts, no one seemed to be reaching for their purses. He was about to land them with his final pitch when he noticed a petite woman standing a little beyond the edge of the crowd, shaking her head in a distinctly disapproving way. Aww…the local moralist, Jane thought. There's one in every town.
The best way to handle such crowd poisoning naysayers would be to work his charm on her, which was definitely more powerful than all of his elixirs combined. Jane had once heard a woman say that if he could only bottle his smile, he'd be rich as Croesus.
"Oh, Miss!" Jane called over the rumbling crowd. The woman seemed to jolt, looking around in disbelief at having the attention of the group as well as this peddler man directed upon her. "Yes, Miss—you in the lovely uh, brown dress. I can see by your demeanor that you have some doubts about my wares. Tell me, Miss, what can I do to convince you of my sincerity, of the effectiveness of my Amazing Elixirs?"
Miss Lisbon, while utterly scandalized at being called out in such a way, was nonetheless never one to whither from a difficult situation.
"Nothing, Mr. Jane, could convince me that you offer anything different from all the other snake oil salesmen who come through this town."
There was a roar of laughter from the men at her spirited reply, whispered unkindnesses from some of the women, who thought of Miss Teresa Lisbon as one of the worst shrews in the city, a hopeless spinster. Jane heard all of this, and wondered at his brief flash of anger at the pettiness toward this woman whom he didn't know from Eve. Even from across the crowd, he could sense there was something inherently special about her…
"Now, Miss-?"
"Lisbon," she supplied, lifting her stubborn little chin proudly. Jane grinned, enjoying their conversation already.
"Miss Lisbon. What a lovely name, reminiscent of my travels in romantic Portugal." He held a hand dramatically to his heart. "Miss Lisbon, what if I were to offer you a free bottle of my Elixir of Love? Try it for five days, and if there isn't some improvement in your situation, I will pay you for your trouble!"
A man to his right couldn't resist calling out: "Better give her the Elixir of Youth first, Mr. Jane, or you'll be out the two bits for sure!"
The taunting laughter grated on him, but he persisted with his encouraging smile as she held her back stiffly, her head high.
"No thank you, Mr. Jane," she said sternly, and in an instant he knew she must be the local schoolmarm. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have no more time to waste on charlatans and swindlers. Good day, sir."
And with a flounce of her skirts, she moved on amidst several more disrespectful calls from the men, her softly bustled behind swaying enticingly. Jane picked up with his spiel, but kept one eye on Miss Lisbon until she crossed the busy street and went into an old, two-story house, shutting the door behind her.
Jane made five dollars in twenty minutes, so he chalked that up to a good day's work, loaded up his wagon and headed further down the main street of town. As he drove past Miss Lisbon's house, he noticed a small shingle on the porch, which read: Lisbon Boarding House~Rooms to Let.
Hmmmm…,he thought, patting his coat pocket, I've got money enough to stay in an actual bed for a few days.
To give Miss Lisbon time to settle down, he drove his pony on until he found a saloon called Kimball's. It was a typical western town watering hole, which was just fine with Jane. He nodded to the men playing cards at a few scattered tables, then bellied up to the bar to ask for a sarsaparilla. Jane wasn't a drinking man, and sarsaparilla could be downright refreshing on a warm spring afternoon. What was different about this saloon, however, was the unusual barkeep. He looked like one of those men he'd seen working the railroad, but not exactly.
"What can I get ya," the man asked, without the exotic accent he'd expected to hear.
Jane placed his order and the bartender filled a glass with the soda water drink. "Thank you," he said, setting down his coin and taking an appreciative sip.
"You're new around here," the man commented, noting the fine cut of Jane's coat, the expensive felt hat.
"Yeah, I'm just in from San Francisco, here on business."
"For how long?" Jane turned to see a tall, dark haired and mustached man in a white cowboy hat standing beside him, a prominent tin star attached proudly to the lapel of his tan frock coat.
"Oh, just a few days," Jane answered, a little amused when the deputy's hand dropped to rest casually on his holstered six-shooter. Jane recognized that this man prided himself on knowing everyone's business in his town.
"Good," he grunted. "We don't take kindly to no riffraff hangin' around. You're name's Jane, right? Sounds like a girl's name to me," he chuckled, gesturing for the barkeep's attention.
"Yeah," Jane smiled good-naturedly, taking another drink. "I get that a lot."
"Pour me a shot a whiskey, will ya?" The barkeep complied in silence, setting out a shot glass and pouring the glass full. The deputy downed it and grinned, pointing a thumb Jane's way. "Hey, Cho. This guy's name is Jane."
"Sounds like a girl's name," repeated the barkeep dryly.
"That's what I said,"laughed the deputy again.
"My front name is Patrick," Jane said, by way of self-defense.
"They call you Pat for short? 'Cause that would've been right mean of your ma and pa, namin' you two girls' names like that."
"No, but most people just call me Jane. What're your names, boys?"
"Well, I'm Deputy Wayne Rigsby, and this here's Kimball Cho. He hailed all the way from Korea, brought here when you were what—three?"
"Yeah," Cho answered, in that same unemotional way he had.
"He was orphaned then adopted by Christian missionaries, and brought here to be raised up away from them heathens in his old country."
Cho shot the deputy a slightly annoyed look, but otherwise didn't comment. Rigsby didn't seem like the kind of guy to watch what he said.
"What do your parents think of you, a Christian boy, tending bar like this," asked Jane curiously.
"They're dead," he replied simply.
Jane nodded. If it's one thing he understood, it was minding one's own business. Well, unless it concerned a fiery, sweet-figured school teacher. "Say, fellas, I'm needin' a place to stay for a few nights. I saw there's a boardin' house down the road a spell. That place any good?"
Rigsby and Cho exchanged amused looks. "Aw, the lovely Miss Lisbon,"Rigsby said sincerely. "I saw you callin' her out there in the middle of the square. I'd steer clear a her, Jane. She may look like a lady, but you heard her talk—she's got quite a mouth on her. Guess she needs to be tough though, dealin' with them rowdy school brats."
"You don't think she'd let me a room?"
"I don't know. She's got quite a temper, and you had her riled up like I haven't seen her in awhile. You could ask, I guess, but you might try Miss Lily's on the other end of town. Miss Lisbon don't cook, so you'd have to eat your meals at the diner next door. Miss Lily sure can fry up a chicken though, and boy, you should taste her rhubarb pie." The man closed his eyes in fond remembrance.
Jane finished his drink and smiled in farewell. "Thanks, boys. I think I'll go ahead and try Miss Lisbon's first. Maybe she's cooled down enough to accept my money now."
"Good luck with that," said Cho, a brief twinkle appearing in his dark eyes.
Rigsby's hand went again to his weapon. "You stay outta trouble, ya hear me Jane? And if Miss Lisbon says no, you move right along and don't bother the lady no more."
"Wouldn't dream of it," replied Jane. The man was definitely protective of the little lady, which only made Jane more curious as to why the young deputy would have such tender feelings toward a woman the ladies in town thought of as a shrew. He tipped his hat. "Gentlemen," he said by way of farewell, leaving through the swinging double doors of the saloon.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Meanwhile, the lady in question was just settling in for the evening, having removed her bonnet and prepared her afternoon tea. It was nothing fancy, just bread, cheese and tea, and she sat in her small parlor, enjoying the quiet after the long day with children. She looked around her house, at the simple settees, chairs and little tables arranged just as her mother had left them twenty years before. When she'd died of influenza, Teresa, her father, and three brothers hadn't had the heart to change anything, and even though the antimacassars were faded from wear, her mother had made them, so there they would stay until they fell apart from age. The same went for the curtains on the windows and the rug beneath her feet.
After her mother died, Teresa became the lady of the house, seeing to her younger brothers while her father slowly drank himself to death. He'd owned the local lumber mill, and the business had provided for their family very well before his wife died. When she was gone, he no longer seemed to care about anything but his next drink, and she watched the business go under and his partner eventually take over, buying James Lisbon's share and leaving the family living hand to mouth.
Teresa had always been good in school, had become an aide to the schoolmaster when she became a teenager. So, upon graduation, she took the teacher's examination, and returned to the school as an apprentice. Within a year, Master Minelli retired, and Teresa happily took over so her former teacher could take up fly fishing and marry his long-time love, Mae. She would miss the mentor who had become like a second father to her, but she needed a means of support for her growing brothers, who were attempting to eat them out of house and home.
Ten years later, two of her brothers had met and married lovely local girls, and were settling down with their own families, two of them re-entering their old family business back at the lumberyard. Tommy, the oldest, was away at school, preparing to become a doctor. With the empty rooms in the house now, Teresa saw no reason to waste them, so she came up with the idea to have a boarding house. Most weeks she had at least one boarder, so it was a great help to pay for Tommy's schooling and allow Teresa some company as well as financial security.
Tonight, however, she was alone again in the big empty house. She sighed into her mother's china teacup, and took a dainty bite of cheese. The last thing she was expecting was the knock on her door. The last person she was expecting to darken it was Patrick Jane, peddler man.
"You!" she said, unable to hide her horror.
"Me," he replied disarmingly, removing his gray hat. "I take it by your warm welcome that you remember me," he said wryly.
Seeing the man from a distance, Teresa had known he was attractive. Up close, he was devastating, and she felt her heart speed up in a physical reaction so foreign, she felt a little faint. But she wasn't about to let this man, who'd humiliated her by subjecting her to the renewed ridicule of the townspeople, see how strongly he affected her. Then when he smiled at her, it transformed his face from handsome to utterly charming and beautiful. She'd thought of him earlier as an angel; up close, Patrick Jane was every bit of that in appearance, but the devil in his blue-green eyes was what made her heart pound.
"Mr. Jane, I told you already, I have no interest in purchasing your—your—snake oils, so if you'd be so kind as to remove your person from my property—"
"Miss Lisbon," he interrupted. "I do apologize for any embarrassment I might have caused in the square, but I'm not here to press you further into trying my elixirs, as beneficial to you as they may be. No, ma'am, I'm here to beg a room of you for the next night or two. Do you have one available?"
She stood before him in her doorway, speechless at his request. Jane could tell she was as struck by him as he was by her. He could see it in her contracting pupils, could nearly feel the sensual energy coming off of her in waves. She was standing so still, her mouth open slightly, charmingly disheveled by his unexpected question, that he felt compelled to fill the charged air with words.
"This is a boarding house, right?" he asked, a hint of irony in his tone. "I mean, I saw the shingle and all, but Deputy Rigsby said you might not want me here—" Well, that woke her up. Nothing like the power of suggestion.
Jane prided himself to be a student of human behavior, and he felt he was getting so good at understanding human reactions, that he could even manipulate people into doing his will. Miss Lisbon didn't disappoint.
"What? Deputy Rigsby? He had no right to speak for me. Why, the next time I see him…"She trailed off ominously, and Jane saw that now familiar lifting of her chin. At that moment, he feared what might happen to poor Deputy Rigsby when next he met the feisty Miss Lisbon.
"So, you don't have a room then?" he asked by way of clarification. She considered him a moment, then promptly made a decision.
"Yes, Mr. Jane, I do. It will be a dollar per night, in advance. I'm sorry I don't serve meals, or do laundry, but you may go to the Silver Dollar next door for some of the finest home cooking in the city, or to the laundress on the next block over. There are no other borders at this time, so you have the upstairs bath to yourself. And don't get any funny ideas about me, Mr. Jane. I have my daddy's gun, and he taught me how to use it."
Jane's lips quirked at the corners, but he didn't dare laugh in her face at the determined picture she made, her lovely green eyes flashing beneath the sable brown of her hair, pulled tightly back into a schoolmarm bun.
"I swear to treat you as respectfully as I would my own sister." As far as answers went, that was perfectly satisfactory; nevertheless, Teresa felt oddly disappointed that he would think of her as a sister.
"Very well, then, Mr. Jane. You may come in." She moved aside and allowed him to pass. Jane surveyed the old-fashioned yet neat as a pin front parlor, where she'd apparently been sitting and enjoying her afternoon repast. His mouth watered a little at the sight of the bread and cheese, and he was inordinately pleased that Miss Lisbon shared his love for tea. He stood waiting, hoping she would offer to share, even though she'd already claimed not to serve meals to her boarders.
"Would you like some tea, Mr. Jane?"
"Why, that would be lovely, Miss Lisbon. There is nothing more soothing of an afternoon than a perfectly steeped cup of tea."
"I completely agree, Mr. Jane. Just let me get you a cup, and you can try my special blend."
For the first time since their meeting in the town square, Jane saw Teresa Lisbon smile. It transformed her completely. Her dimples appeared, her eyes sparkled, and her cheeks became rosy with pleasure. He knew now why a man like Wayne Rigsby would want to ensure Miss Lisbon's happiness. Indeed, it made her…beautiful. It was Jane's turn to feel a jolt of surprise at his own reaction. He swallowed hard, and offered up a shaky grin in return. If he hadn't fully realized it before, Miss Lisbon was Trouble, with a capital T. In more ways than one.
A/N: So? Are you still with me? I must say the most difficult aspect of this was how to explain Cho. I hope I did it in an inoffensive way. You may be wondering where Grace is, or other characters from the show. Don't worry—they'll be up in the next chapter. I'd love to hear what you think!