A/N: I know it may seem like I'm pushing it with anachronisms, especially in this chapter, but I try to do research to make sure I'm staying within the time period's limits. If I'm not and I know it, I'll tell you. But I was surprised the word "awesome" was used, although I admit probably not in the way I did. (The only reason I did was, as I'm guessing most of you will know, because it's yet another movie reference that I could not resist throwing in.) Happy reading!

Maura had a terrible time trying to fall asleep that night. She had been blindsided by Jane's sudden departure, and was kept up wondering what had warranted it. Everything seemed to have been going well, and it had felt so good to be able to confide her apprehensions in somebody. Maybe it even helped to have it be someone she hardly knew. It hadn't dawned on her until that evening that she may have had another reason besides Garrett to move: being somewhere new could bring friends. Real friends. Not those women in Boston who pretended to get on with her because she had a respected father or because she was engaged to someone as important as Garrett Fairfield. In Hollow Creek, she had a chance to start over, a chance to have people see her as a real person—not the doctor's daughter, not the bohemian's offspring. Just Maura.

An indescribable thrill had shot through Maura when, just as she was about to go to bed, Melody had knocked on her door to announce that Jane was there to visit. But when the woman had bolted right after Maura had confessed so much without even attempting an excuse, it hurt. Maura's chest felt tight, although she wondered if that had more to do with the change of weather and the different altitude she had not yet adjusted to. Yes, that must have been it. Eventually she was able to fall into a dreamless sleep thanks only to her exhaustion.

The next morning, she walked downstairs in a two-piece, lavender-colored outfit. Maura supposed her unerring sense of fashion had also been what garnered attention from ladies back in Boston, eager to be her disciples. Though Maura had always been happy to advise, she did wish other women would value something in her besides her taste in clothes. The ruched jacket she was currently wearing had actually been her last purchase in Boston; she had never worn it out there. She thought the bustled look would fit the West, and she was right: every woman she passed on her way to the dining hall had something complimentary to say, either about the jacket or the forty-inch matching skirt that ended with yards of black lace.

"Good morning, Miss Isles!" chirped Melody, when Maura walked into the small dining room towards the back of the boarding house. "My, don't you look lovely! How did you sleep?"

"All right, thank you," Maura said, taking a seat at a solitary table.

"I hope your visitor didn't keep you up too late," Melody said.

It took Maura a moment to realize who she meant. "Oh! Oh, Jane. No, she was fine. It was all right. Do you have eggs?"

"We certainly do, Miss Isles. How would you like them prepared?"

"Poached."

"Is that all?"

"Yes, please."

A few minutes later, Melody returned with the dish, and Maura didn't realize how hungry she had been. But before her proprietress could walk away, Maura said, "Melody, may I ask you something?"

"Of course, dear," Melody said, pulling up a chair.

"Do you know anything about Jake Wyatt?"

She glanced up from her eggs to see that Melody looked shocked. "Sorry, Miss Isles," she chuckled after a long pause. "I keep forgetting just how far you traveled to get here. Anybody with eyes, ears, or a friend with eyes or ears knows about Jake Wyatt."

"That's what I keep hearing," Maura said with a frown. "But then nobody elaborates."

"Jake Wyatt," Melody muttered, tapping her chin. "How do I begin to describe Jake Wyatt?"

Maura jumped when three other women suddenly descended upon their table, one looking tawdry, one a widow, and one who didn't look like she could be any older than sixteen. It was this youngest one who put forth, "Jake Wyatt is flawless."

"He has enough money to fill two bank accounts, and his horse has shoes made of solid gold," offered the tawdry one.

"I hear he insured that horse for five hundred dollars."

"I hear when Commodore Perry went to open Japan for Western trade, he brought Jake Wyatt with him to help sell American carriages," said the old widow.

"His favorite play is MacBeth," giggled the younger girl.

The heretofore pleasant smell of eggs was shoved out of Maura's nose and replaced by the unwelcome scent of cheap perfume as the gaudily-dressed woman leaned closer to say, "Once, he met Billy the Kid, and Billy told him he thought Jake was a rogue!"

"One time," started the youngest one, "he shot my uncle in the foot. It was awesome."

Melody had had enough. "All right, the lot of ya! Don't be ridiculous! Dearie, I know you and many others like you think Jake Wyatt is a handsome scoundrel, but what he's done keeps him a far cry from flawless. No one has enough money to insure a blasted animal for five hundred dollars, or buy gold horseshoes; I don't care how rich ya are! And Japan's been open for the better part of thirty years, so unless Commodore Perry saw fit to bring Jake's expectant mother out East with him, I don't think Jake would have been of much help there. And you all ought to know better than to be impressed that Billy the Kid would state the obvious. Now back to your tables, go on, this is a private conversation! Shoo!" She waited until the women (still gossiping, still giggling) dispersed before turning back to Maura, who looked rather astounded. "That's probably why nobody elaborates," Melody said with an exasperated smile. "Very few people who've really met Jake Wyatt live to tell about it."

"Is that a fact?" Maura asked.

"I do feel secure in telling you that much, Miss, yes," Melody said. "He's right famous for his nasty temper. I'm skeptical about most stories I hear, unless I hear the same thing from a number of people or read about it in the papers. But even then, you know, you can't trust the paper about everything."

"What have you heard?" Maura was almost afraid to ask. "Aside from his temper, I mean."

"Well, let's see," Melody sighed, leaning back. "I know he drinks like there's no tomorrow, and I'm sure that don't help his temper at all. He don't seem to stick to one area, neither. From what I can tell, there've been sightings of him all over the West! Sort of gives the feeling that he's restless, you know? A wanderer. Apparently don't like to make attachments of any kind—word is he prefers to work alone, so he gets a new partner every once in a while to keep from getting attached. Always Negroes or Indians." Maura wondered how Frost would feel to know people assumed this, but then wondered if his anonymity was part of their overall plan. What Melody said next made Maura choke on her last piece of egg: "He's also said to have something of a reputation when it comes to women. Real heartbreaker. Miss Isles, are you all right?"

She had to ask because Maura was gasping for breath. "Yes," she managed to say. "That last bite, it just didn't go down very well."

"Can I get you some water?"

"Oh, that's quite all right, thank you. I think I've kept you from the rest of your guests long enough," she said, and with a last concerned look, Melody got up to serve some new customers.

Maura was done eating, but she stayed seated a short while longer, trying to wrap her head around everything that had just been divulged to her. She had no problem dismissing what her three impromptu visitors had said, but Melody's notions stuck with her. They were troubling, particularly that last one. Of course if Jake wanted to be considered a consummate reprobate, he would have to go around breaking women's hearts. But beneath that male façade pumped the blood of a woman, the heart of a woman, the mind of a woman. Was it really worth it to Jane to go on these escapades, when it meant she had to pretend to be interested in seducing women?

That's probably not what I should focus on in light of everything else she mentioned.

Maura chalked it up to a number of things she was sure she would never understand about Jane. At this point she understood very little of Jane's motivations for having an alternate identity, so she decided to reserve judgment until she learned more. But as she walked out of the boarding house and into the bright sunlight, she couldn't help feeling a strange twinge of pleasure about being one of the few people who knew both Jane and Jake, and knew they were the same person.

The pride drained out of her as she started walking towards Garrett's office, still troubled over why Jane had shot off so fast last night. She tried not to think about it too much, resolving to ask about it later. Garrett had promised to take her out on the lake this morning before lunch; maybe afterwards, she could go by Angela's and see if Jane was there.

Jane, meanwhile was asleep on the back porch of Korsak's ranch. He had just arrived and stepped outside to check on the horses, waking Jane in the process. He hadn't seen her yet, so she called out to him, causing him to almost fall over in alarm. Korsak whipped around, and when he saw the source of his near-heart attack, said, "Jesus, Mary, and the whole damn barn, Jane! What the hell are you doing here?"

"Good morning to you, too, old man," she said brightly.

"Angela's about ready to serve your head up on a platter," Korsak said. At Jane's frown, he explained, "She came running by my office two hours ago asking if I'd seen ya. It seems somebody walked out on my deputy last night."

"Shut up, Korsak," she grumbled, walking over.

"You wanna tell me the deal here, Jane? Angela was hysterical. She was very upset that you left Grant standing, but she's also afraid you've left town again."

Jane groaned. "I knew I shoulda left a note with that dress."

"Dress?" Korsak asked.

"No. Stop. It ain't what you think."

"Did she have you in a dress?" he laughed. "Jane Rizzoli?"

"No, the dress was for Grant," Jane said snidely. Last night, she had left the garment on the outside railing by Angela's room. This was only after finding an old shirt to wear with the jeans Maura had so obligingly fixed, which Jane was now wearing along with a rust-colored shirt. "Can you believe her? My first day back in town, and all Ma can think about is makin' me have dinner with Grant."

"Well, kid, she's like a mother to ya. You can't fault her for thinking it's time you were…"

"If you say 'settled' again, Korsak, I'm gonna shoot you in the gut. Or maybe some place you might actually feel it."

"Ha, ha, tough guy," Korsak said, rolling his eyes. "What're you doing here, anyway? Did you sleep here?"

"Yes, I did," Jane said without an ounce of embarrassment. "I happen to know that today is the last Saturday of the month, and you always go over to Wohaw Springs on the last Saturday of October."

"If you think I'm taking you with me, you've got another think comin'," Korsak said. "You took that dog yesterday, and where is she now?"

"Frost's been watchin' her for me," Jane said. "Don't get your knickers in a twist, old man. I ain't goin' for me. I'd just like to see the merchandise."

"What for?"

"Oh, I dunno. Jo Friday might need a friend." With a hoarse laugh, she put her arm around Korsak and drew him closer. "C'mon, old timer, you and I both know there ain't no use fightin' it. You're taking me."

And of course, as was usually the case, Jane was right.

For as long as Jane could remember, Korsak had met with an expert tradesman four times a year over in Wohaw Springs. This particular tradesman happened to specialize in exotic animals, which he traveled the country (and occasionally the world) collecting. Ever the animal enthusiast, Korsak was by far the man's best and most reliable customer. Unfortunately, Hollow Creek was a bit too exotic for many of these creatures, with the sad result that most of them died prematurely. With each death reported to the tradesman, he got better at gathering helpful information for each animal he bought, the result being that he could then pass on his wisdom to buyers for a higher price. Korsak preferred to go alone, as he tended to get mushy around animals and didn't want too many people to see that side of him, but he agreed to let Jane tag along if she would row. Her only reply was that she needed the exercise.

Although Wohaw Springs was accessible by road, it was fastest to get there by crossing Sparrow Lake. The humble creek for which their town was named poured into it, the most scenic body of water around. When Korsak was traveling it alone, it might take him the better part of an hour to cross over to Wohaw Springs, but with Jane at the oars, the time was considerably shortened. The lake was too wide and the heat too hazy to be able to make out any other souls on the water, but one thing that was certainly loud and clear was the engine of a nearby, tiny steamboat.

"Can you beat that?" Jane grunted, having to speak louder than usual to be heard over the roar of the steamboat. "I tell ya, whoever's on that thing better be in a hurry to get some place, or all he's doin' is ruining a perfectly beautiful atmosphere!"

As it was, the owner of the boat was none other than Garrett Fairfield, who had splurged on it when he made his first big deal in Hollow Creek. He couldn't wait to show off his acquisition of this recent technology to his fiancé, who was duly impressed with the boat's capabilities, but wished it didn't need to be quite so loud. Tt was a thrilling invention, but came at the cost of being able to really converse with Garrett, who spent much of their time on the lake standing proudly by the bow, like a well-coiffed monument to seafaring. After they'd been on the water for about twenty minutes or so, he deigned to walk back to Maura, who was sitting in the middle of the boat with her parasol held aloft over her shoulder.

"Isn't it beautiful, Maura?" he asked, his voice raised by necessity to an ungentlemanly shout. "The lake, I mean!"

"Oh, yes!" she replied, struggling to make herself be heard. "But now that we're out here, do you think you could maybe turn off the motor for a—"

"Wait!" he interrupted her, digging into his pocket and producing a pair of opera glasses. "I brought these so you could take a closer look at those mountain ranges over there," he said, gesturing towards the formations. "If you're lucky, you might see an Indian smoke signal, or some workers coming back from the mine!"

This was of course an intriguing proposal to Dr. Isles, so she accepted the binoculars and held them up to her eyes as Garrett walked back to the front of the boat. It took her a moment to orient her vision to the mountains, and as she looked, she caught sight of a small rowboat that was quite a ways off. Was that the Sheriff? Yes. And Jane was rowing his boat.

Oh, my.

Maura's heart made an uncomfortable leap at the sight: Jane's dark hair was pulled back away from her face, held up with a small knot of some kind; her face was dark and serious under the unrelenting sun. But the most impressive visual were her arms, thick and pumping hard with the rowing. Due to the intense heat and no doubt the strenuous work she was currently doing, her shirt sleeves were rolled up almost to her shoulders, revealing the strains of her muscles as she rowed. The hollow of her neck was exaggerated with each shove of the oars as she arched back and forth, sweat sheening her tanned skin.

"Gorgeous sight, isn't it, Maura?" Garrett called over his shoulder.

"Yes," she breathed, not knowing or caring that Garrett couldn't hear her.

After her too-brief excursion with Garrett on the lake, Maura returned to Melody's to start writing some letters. She had promised to tell a few of the women back home when she arrived, and how she liked the town. If she stopped to think about it, there was probably a lot she could write, but as she needed to make four copies of essentially the same letter, she left out most of it. Generic stuff for generic friends.

Garrett had promised to show her the house he had bought with help from his father after he got off of work that afternoon. As Dr. Byron was away visiting family, there was still not much for Maura to do other than explore the town, which she was not keen to do alone. Maybe Jane would be back from the lake now, and maybe it would be worth Maura's while to go by Angela's, and see if Jane was around. Then they could talk about whatever it was that had spooked Jane last night.

As she walked outside, it was to be apprehended by none other than Jane herself. It seemed the work-out had been too much for Jane's clothes, as she had changed into Railhead grey pants and a green twill shirt. Her hair was still pulled back, however, just like her dimples were pulling back to reveal a beautiful smile at the sight of Maura.

"Afternoon, doc!" she chirped, skipping up the steps to join Maura on the porch.

Pleasantly surprised, Maura greeted her back. "Jane, how nice to see you. I was worried after last night that maybe you…" She blushed; she hadn't meant to bring it up right away, fearful that it would make her sound like she had been bothered by it… which she had, but she hadn't wanted Jane to know it.

Jane just grinned, rubbing the back of her neck. "Sorry about that. I didn't want to just run out on ya like that, but I'd forgotten there was something I had to do, and I was late. Later than I'd meant to be. I guess I'd just lost track of the time talking to you." Right, that doesn't sound strange. But Maura didn't seem to have been put off by it at all, given the brightness of her smile. This gave Jane the courage to say, "Anyway, I felt bad just leavin' so quick, so I wanted to try and make it up to ya."

"What? How—I mean, Jane, you shouldn't feel like you have to, um…"

"I didn't do it 'cause I felt like I had to," Jane said with a shrug. "I did it 'cause I wanted to. Come and see." She walked back down the porch steps, turning to glance at Maura over her shoulder. "C'mon!" she said cheerfully at Maura's hesitation.

Wondering where on earth this was going, Maura followed Jane around to the back of the boarding house, where Melody kept a very pristine garden. Long past the many rows of beautiful flowers and just beyond the vegetable patch, Jane picked up a small wooden crate. "Did you trap a rabbit for me?" Maura teased her.

With a low chuckle, Jane shook her head. "I thought about what you were sayin' last night about pets, about how animals always die before you. Well, I went out on a mission with Korsak today, and we found this tradesman Korsak's pretty fond of. I asked him if he had any animals for sale that he thought'd outlive a human, and he gave me this little creature." She opened the crate and leaned towards Maura so the woman could peer inside. "I know he ain't what you might call attractive," Jane said when Maura failed to say anything. "But he's sort of like the turtles down in the creek, only—only he's called somethin' else and can live up to a good eighty years old."

"A tortoise," Maura said blankly.

"Oh, that's right!" Jane said. "Yes."

"You got me a tortoise."

"Well, yes, I suppose I did. I figured if you was ever lonely up in that room of yours, and there wasn't any dead folks around, you might like havin' a pet to talk to. One that won't go dying on you, so long's you take care of it according to the book in there. That's of course assuming you can read, which I figure you can, as I figure you're pretty smart."

Maura's expression was impossible to decipher. She was just trying to process this. The tortoise's shell had a beautiful geometric design on it that more than made up for its slightly off-putting face. But the thing couldn't help looking that way. It took a microscopic step inside its crate, and Maura cocked her head, still staring at it, unaware of how closely and nervously Jane was watching her.

Ah, this was a stupid idea. She's a lady. What does she want with a monster-looking thing like th—

"Jane, I love it."

"You do?"

Maura's eyes shifted up to catch Jane's gaze, her bright smile back in place. "I do. I love it. What shall we call him?"

"What should you call him, is the question," Jane said, thrilled that Maura was pleased. "Korsak was givin' me a hard time all the way back, sayin' I was lousy at coming up with names. I tried thinkin' up some, but the best I could do was name him after the fella that sold him to us."

"Which was who?"

"William Bass."

"Hm…William?" Maura asked, looking back at the tortoise. She got the feeling it wouldn't react to a name quite like Jo had, but she wanted to at least see how the name sounded in relation to the creature. "William. No. Bass?" And she liked that better. "Bass…" She smiled up at Jane. "I think Bass suits him."

"You do?" Jane said with a grin. "Yeah, you're right! It does suit him, don't it?"

"Oh, but what'll I do about Melody? Korsak said she doesn't allow pets."

"Ah, well," Jane said, setting the crate back down and wiping her hands together a couple of times, "I thought of that already. See the problem with animals is they make noise, or they leave hair, or they knock things over, or they take a piss where they ain't supposed to, right? Well, according to Bass—the, uh, person, that is—Bass the tortoise don't do any of those things. If Melody gives ya any trouble about him, you just let me know, and she and I'll have a little talk."

"Jane, I don't know what to say," Maura half-whispered, unable to stop smiling. "I want to do something for you."

"You already have," Jane said with another shrug. "You fixed my belt loop, and ya fixed my nose."

"Oh yes, I see you didn't keep the ice at it," Maura chided her.

Jane waved her hand. "Ah, it'll look fine soon."

"Incidentally, you left your boots and your alcohol in my room when you dashed off."

"Oh, did I? I don't suppose you'd like to keep either of them?"

"That's a kind offer, but the boots would be a tad big for me, and I don't drink alcohol."

"Ever?"

"No."

"Never."

"No…"

"You've never had it before?"

"No."

Jane stared. "Well then, I suppose I'd better take that back. It wouldn't do for you to start drinkin' alone." With a wink, she added, "People always find out, and it'll ruin your reputation. Anyhow, shall I take Bass up to your room now?"

She was about to bend over to pick up the crate again, but Maura put her hand out and touched Jane's arm with a "no, wait." Jane straightened back up and looked at Maura curiously, as Maura deliberated as to whether or not she wanted to do this. But then for the first time in her recent memory, Maura's body acted before her brain could catch up and she slung her arms around Jane's slender frame, pulling her into an embrace. Jane stiffened at once, but when Maura didn't let go right away, she put her own arms around the doctor, patting her back in what she hoped was a comforting manner. She felt Maura inhale sharply and her body started to tremble, cuing Jane to pull back much too soon.

"Maura, what is it?" she asked, seeing that Maura's eyes were quite watery.

"I'm not sure," Maura garbled, surprised at how fast the emotion had overcome her. "I'm just—I am still confused by you, Jane, and what you do. I've not even known you for two full days, and yet you've made me feel more welcome in this town than anyone. Even more than Garrett, in a way. I don't understand you, but I'm so grateful to you. Thank you, truly."

A long silence followed, and Jane licked her lips before responding: "Don't waste your thanks on me, Maura." She stooped down to pick up Bass' crate again, and nodded her head in the direction of the boarding house, indicating they should head inside. "I reckon there's a lot of things in life I done wrong, and I oughtta do some makin' up for it. Maybe it's 'cause …I dunno, maybe it's 'cause you ain't from around here, and you're sort of alone and you're fresh. To us you're fresh, I mean. New. So you make it easy to want to help you."

"Oh, I see. Am I to be your town's resident damsel-in-distress, then?" Maura joked.

Jane caught her eye and grinned. "Damsel, sure. Distress—I dunno. We may have to test your mettle first. You bring your archery set with you?"