Note: This chapter has been edited from it's original form for compliance with the M rating on FanFiction. For the full, MA version of this chapter please visit this same story on Archive of Our Own. The story title and chapter title are the same. The author name is DeepLittleSOB. The link to my Dashboard is in my profile.

Late June, 1867

"Hurry up, ya'll!" Ellie calls out of the back door. "Breakfast is getting cold!"

"Comin', darlin'!" she hears Dean's voice shout back to her from the barn and she just shakes her head, knowing that he will be right along. Food never failed to get Dean running.

She plates up the pancakes, three per plate, before adding the pork sausage she helped Sam make just a short two weeks ago when a pig in the pen out back became too old.

She places the plates in their usual spots at the table with a small, contented smile on her lips. The past couple months have been quiet and surprisingly healing. She's found a nice little place within the small family of two brothers and things move smoothly from day to day. She cooks and cleans and maintains the animals, they work the fields that will bring in the money they all need to survive and for Ellie to move on.

"That sausage is smellin' mighty good," Dean says, jogging excitedly through the doorway after making a quick trip to the barn on a lazy Sunday morning.

"Ah-ah!" Ellie scolds and points at him accusingly. He knows what that means.

"Sorry ma'am," he apologizes jokingly for his overzealous ways and swaps his aim for the table with a new aim for the wash basin, already filled, to clean up. "Lucky-boy's leg is lookin' better."

"Thank goodness," Ellie sighs with relief. "That horse has been making me worry something awful."

"Me too," Dean admits. "Wrapped him up real good this time. I'mma keep him in fer the day, let him heal."

Ellie looks at him with wonder. "How're we planning to get into town then?"

"Not sure we gonna," Dean admits, wiping his now clean hands on a rag left for him.

She looks to him with total disappointment. "No services then?"

"Not 'less ya wanna ride one horse inna town wit me," Dean scoffs a little and sits at his place.

Ellie sits with that idea for a moment. "We could."

Peering at her funny, Dean lifts one eyebrow. "Ya sure that ain't improper or whatnot?" he asks with a slightly joking tone.

"Hush your mouth," she warns when he makes fun of her ways. For a long time she's been hung up on her old rules of what is right and polite and what is wrong. Dean's found it amusing to watch her, seeing her adjustment from the East to the Midwest. "And yes, maybe it'll be a bit improper but if it'll get me to church and to visit Jackson then I can handle it."

Dean nods with surprise at her. "Well, alright. We be headin' out when yer done in the kitchen then."

"Alright, then." She smiles at him, happy to see he will be accommodating of her.

"Mornin', Ellie," Sam greets, coming down from the second floor. "Smells awful good in here."

"I'm getting better every day, right?" she laughs a bit despite knowing it's true.

"I'll say," he answers and sits down, digging in quickly.

With the two eating up a storm at the table, Ellie grabs the dog bowl from the floor and dumps a pancake into it. "Cass! Come!" she yells out back.

In a flash the dog is at the back door, running in with high excitement. He stands at the door, his tail wagging fiercely as he watches her closely.

Ellie grabs a sausage link, breaking it into little pieces. "Sit, Cass." The dog does and she feeds him a piece of sausage that he hungrily accepts. "Lay down." He does and earns more of the treat. "Sit." He sits back up. "Shake on it." The dog offers his paw to her and she takes it. "Oh, what a good boy! Good boy, Cassie! Very good!"

"This here's like dinner an' a show!" Dean delights from his seat as Lizzy places the dog bowl onto the floor inside the kitchen as Cass has become accustomed to partially living inside the house now that his manners are improved.

"He's a very smart pup," Ellie says, ruffing his fur on his head while he eats and no longer earning a growl from him for it. "He just needs to be challenged now and then, keep him on his toes and all. Use that big ol' brain of his."

"Sounds like someone else I know," Sam jokes and pokes his brother in the arm with a fork.

"Ow, bastard!" Dean calls out without thinking. Ellie marches right for him. "Ow!" he yells again when she slaps him upside the head just hard enough to get his attention.

"Watch that mouth of yours," she warns and heads back for the stove to make her own plate.

"Lady, I'm payin' ya. Ya can't just hit me," Dean points out.

"I didn't hit ya as an employee. I hit you as a woman being subjected to such foul language."

Dean glares at her for a second. "Ya gonna make me nuts, ain't 'cha?"

She just grins as she takes a seat with a plate in her hands.

Dean simply huffs a laugh and shakes his head, getting yet another reminder why it is that he hasn't at all minded having her around these past few months.

"Ya wanna head right fer the church or should I drop ya elsewhere?" Dean asks as they ride Spyder, his healthy horse, into town. She sits side saddle in front of him in her skirt and button-up ruffled shirt, some of the clothing she asked an advance in payment for when she could no longer survive in one dress every day. Her hair is up in a proper, loose bun and the sun of the lovely yet hot June day lights up her brown eyes to a warm, beautiful color. Dean would be lying if he said he didn't notice moments like this now and then, moments when she looked just stunning and exceptional.

"Church please, if you don't mind," she says while turning her head to look at him. She's become so comfortable with the Winchesters, Dean especially, that it feels almost strange at times. Why, she isn't sure, but strange nonetheless. "I don't wanna be late."

"What Miss Ellie wants…," Dean trails off and focuses on the dusty road ahead, the town just in sight off in the distance.

"Thank you, Dean," Ellie says to him with sincerity. "I know some Sundays you'd prefer to stay at home and not have to travel into town… but you do it anyways. For me. I appreciate that."

Dean nods and keeps the comment quiet. Yes, she's right. Sitting on his porch all day with a little whiskey and his banjo sounded like a much better plan than trekking to town but he'd do it without complaint for as long as Ellie wanted. Church is important to her and it's important to him that she gets what she needs in life after all she's been through.

"Can I ask if today is the day you finally come with me?" Ellie questions him, asking once a week if he'll join her. She knows the answer she'll likely get but she'll always still ask.

"I'm thinkin' ya already know that answer, El," he tells her easily. "Ain't my thing."

"That's alright," she smiles at him and knows she'll keep trying. "Are you going to that saloon?"

"After I visit with Bobby, yessum," Dean lets her know his plan. "I can meet ya back at ol' Spyder here at the usual time."

"Alright then," she smiles at him despite her worries. She wishes he didn't drink so much when in town but it wasn't her place to say much else. He can decide for himself what he does.

From there they head into town silently, neither needing to speak so much anymore. Silence between them has never been uncomfortable.

Standing by Spyder for a good half hour now that her services and visit to Jackson's grave is done, Ellie starts to get concerned. Dean's never this late. He might be off a few minutes here and there but never by this much. It makes her worry.

"Hey, boy," she says quietly to the horse, petting down his nose with love. She's come to appreciate the animals from the farm, especially the horses and Cass. They hold a soft spot in her heart. "You stay put, huh? I'll go and get Dean. Maybe he had a little too much," she jokes.

She turns from the horse and walks away down the muddy main street a bit towards Meeker's Saloon.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Coming down from it all, his head lowered into the crook of her neck as he catches his breath, Dean sighs. Ellie might find her renewal in church every Sunday but Dean's certainly got his own services that free his soul.

"Was startin' ta think ya were done wit me, Dean," Joanna jokes when he lifts his head to look down at her.

"Aw, I can't be spendin' all my earnin's on ya, Joanna," Dean smirks his patented smile at her. "My brother might up an' kill me fer that."

"Is that what it is?" she challenges him with a smile all his own. "It ain't that girl ya got workin' fer ya maybe gittin' ya what ya need when ya ain't in town?"

Dean's face drops instantly and he gets up off of her and out of bed.

"I say somethin' wrong?" Joanna asks, propping up on her elbows and not bothering to cover up.

"Don't ya talk 'bout Ellie that way," Dean warns quietly as he walks to his clothes strewn about the brothel room to get dressed.

Joanna is taken aback by this reaction. "I was just makin' a joke."

"It wasn't funny," he responds, pulling his pants up his legs as he glares at her.

"What is the big hoopla, Dean?" she nearly laughs when she's feeling odd around him in the moment. She's never seen Dean react this way before. "She just a girl that be workin' fer ya an' I was just playin' wit ya."

"She a real good girl," Dean tells her, buttoning his clothing before reaching for his shirt. "She been good to me an' Sam an' she don't need ta be called a whore."

Joanna stands up and starts to get dressed now too, feeling insulted. "An' what's so dang wrong wit bein' a whore?"

Dean sees his misstep immediately. "I didn't mean ta… cast aspersions on ya. I'm just sayin' Ellie ain't like that. She's kind. She's proper an' a church goer…"

"What in Sam Hill she doin' 'round the likes a' you then?" Joanna remarks and when she meets Dean's eyes she smiles wide at him. He relaxes and smiles back before continuing to get dressed.

"All I'm sayin' is keep ya mouth kind when ya talkin' 'bout her. She's nothin' if'n she ain't a real good girl."

Joanna nods to herself as she pulls her dress up, buttoning the long trail up the front as she sees the situation for what it really is. "Ya like her."

"What!?" Dean looks to her like she's crazy.

"Ya do. Yer 'bout as see-through as a' damn window pain, Dean Winchester. Ya like her a whole mess."

"No I don't," he denies and gets annoyed.

"Ya do."

"No, I don't," he repeats.

"Then why ya in a tizzy wit me sayin' so?" she points out to him, fluffing her hair and preparing to head back out to the saloon. "If'n ya didn't like her then me sayin' ya did would not'a been a big ol' deal."

Gritting his teeth, Dean sits down to pull on his boots. "Ya got a mouth on ya."

"And she done made a mash on ya!" Joanna laughs a little. "Ya ain't never gotten mad at me before, not once."

"Ya ain't never run yer mouth on things ya ain't knowin' 'bout before," he points out to her, sitting on the end of the now rumpled bed. "Ya keep goin' an' ya gonna make me think yer on the shoot."

"I ain't on the shoot," Joanna rolls her eyes. "It's just that ya been comin' ta see me fer so long now, Dean. I know ya well enough. Ya ain't never once looked like ya did today."

"An' how did I look today?" Dean pries on, thinking she's full of it.

"Like yow were mighty conflicted 'bout visitin' me," she admits. "Up until Miss Ellie arrived in town ya ain't never hesitated to pony up ta me. When she got here… ya been a scarce sight 'round these parts." She puts her hands on her hips and smiles, making clear what parts she means.

The corner of Dean's mouth turns up at that. She's funny. It's one of the reasons he's always liked coming to see Joanna. She's not only a good time in bed and well worth the money but she's got a sense of humor.

He then thinks of Ellie's sense of humor. It's a lot less crude but still quite funny.

"Ya run yer mouth an awful amount," Dean comments to her.

"I thought ya liked this mouth just fine," Joanna jests a bit and makes Dean full on smile.

"It ain't bad," he says with a little levity.

"Ain't bad!?" she outrages right back and walks up to him as he takes his hat from the bedpost. She grabs his collar and meets his eyes. "I got the best mouth in the west, cowboy." She then kisses him good, her lips devouring his with clear intent. "An' ya know it be true."

Dean grabs her ass through her dress. "Ya right. I take it back, huh?"

"Good." She winks while popping his hat back on his head and then walks for the door, opening it once they were dressed and proper for the public. They begin walking down the hallway and towards the large staircase in the salon to the bar on the main floor. "So… ya gonna tell her?'

"Tell her what?" Dean pushes back, not admitting to anything.

"Ugh, ya men are an impossible bunch," she rolls her eyes and links her arm in his.

"Ya watch that tone, ma'am," Dean says to her as they make it down the stairs.

"Ya watch yerself right back," she flirts and leans in, pulling him down by the back of the neck for a parting kiss from her favorite client. Dean gives in, kissing right back, but out of the corner of his eye he catches someone staring at him in the saloon door way.

Ellie.

Dean backs away from the kiss hastily just in time to see the disappointed look on her face as Ellie turns to leave the saloon.

He must be late. She must have come looking for him. His heart drops into the pit of his stomach.

"I gots ta git," Dean says quickly, pulling his payment from his pocket before rushing out the front door of the saloon, the entire display just proving to Joanna that she was right about him.

Once she reaches where Spyder is hitched once more, Ellie stops and stands there, feeling… what? She isn't sure.

A fair amount of disappointment is running through her chest, she knows that much. But why would she be so disappointed in Dean? He's her boss and she has no right to have such a reaction to what he chooses to do with his free time. But then again Dean's become a good friend to her and she cares about his moral lapses. Saloon girls are not a morally sound decision.

But more than anything she's hurt and that is not the kind of response she could have ever imagined. She's hurt to her core and has no idea why. He never betrayed her or lied to her. He is a free, unmarried man and out this way she had heard that whores were a bit of a traditional pastime for some. She has no right to react this way… but she does anyways.

And when she sees Dean making his way quickly to her she gets nervous. Her hands shake as she pets Spyder, busying herself as her mind races with worry and awkwardness.

And all she wanted was to gather her boss so she could head back and start working on their Sunday supper.

"Ellie," Dean greets when he's come up to her, his hands in his pockets with strange anxiety.

"Dean," she responds, only glancing at him once with uncomfortable grace.

"Ya ready to head on back home," he smiles something forced, looking to smooth over the odd air between them.

"Yessum," she answers, staring at her feet and not at him.

This is not good. "Alright, then," Dean says, his voice shaky as he steps up to her and grabs her by the waist, hoisting her up onto Spyder for the ride home.

"Thank you," she says in return as he gets on himself. They settle in for the ride, her side against his front, and she wonders why it has to be this time that they're so close for the trip of all the times they've come into town together.

It's been silent the whole ride and they have no more than a mile left. Before now their quiet and conversation free time would be comfortable. Now… it's awkward as hell. And just terrible.

"Ya mad at me 'er somethin'?" Dean finally speaks up after a near hour of no talking while he stares straight at the road ahead. He hates talking about emotional issues and all but the weird thing between them right now is just killing him. He can't stand it anymore.

"Why would I be mad?" Ellie says back despite knowing full well what's irking her.

"I don't think ya got real reason ta… but I'm thinkin' yer mad at me still." He knows she is.

"I'm not," she lies.

"Then good."

"Good," Ellie returns with, looking down at her hands as they make their way, her shoulder and upper arm pressed to his chest that she can feel is quite capable and strong at such close quarters.

The silence consumed them again for a bit until Ellie can't stay quiet anymore.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you feel the need to visit… women like that?" Ellie questions him when her curiosity gets to be too much. She says it with innocence and no judgment.

"Why do ya care?" he counters with slight anger.

"Because… you just… ya seem like a good man. A catch, really," Ellie explains herself. "You're kind and giving. You work hard to be successful with your farm. And the way you are with your brother… you're a good man. You could have any woman. Why don't you?"

"Why don't I have any woman?" Dean gets confused.

"Why don't you have some beautiful, kind wife by now?" she questions him, finally looking up to meet his impossibly green eyes out under the sun of the midday.

Dean sits for a second, tightening his grip on the reigns of his horse. "Don't think I met a girl worth spendin' my life on just yet, I reckon."

"I think you're being awfully picky then," she comments, being very forward. "There are some very nice and quite pretty girls in this town. I met some at church since I've been attending services…"

"Ellie, I ain't goin' ta church."

"That wasn't me trying to get you there," she assures. "What I'm saying is if you want a good girl, one to always be there and love you instead of paying for temporary company, then there are a few ladies in town that'd be happy to treat you well."

She's trying to pawn him off on some other girl. She's trying to get him fixed up and hitched after only knowing him for two months.

"This here conversation is over," he declares to her. "Ya don't know me from a dang stick in the mud so fer you to make such assumptions is not only bold but foolish."

"I never meant to upset you…"

"Ya did," he snaps back.

"I apologize then," Ellie says to him and looks off into the distance to avoid his eyes with her rudeness. "I just want better for you, Dean. I like you. I know what a good man you are. Please take my words as a concerned friend and not some nosy gal that doesn't know you. I know you."

"Ya don't."

"Ya think I don't but I do," she counters. "Don't know why but I do see you. The real you."

"And what's the real me, since ya so wise an' all," he asks while remaining angry with her.

"You're a man that hires a person down on her luck when she has nowhere else to go," Ellie says, once more looking at her hands in her lap. "You're a man that lies to a girl's face when she makes an awful meal because you don't want her feelings hurt on account of you caring. You're a man that, no matter what front you put up… you want more. You want to be happy and ya want to find that good life."

"An' how would ya know I want that 'er not?" Dean presses her, trying to see if he can prove her wrong.

"Already told you. I see you. The real you, not the surface you," she gets brave and looks up at him. "You could be happy. You just have to let yourself be so and stop being so tough."

He just stares at her for a second. She did get a good amount of that right and he has no idea how she did it. But she doesn't know it all like she thinks and that's still enough for him to find her boldness a true annoyance.

"Ya don't know me that well, Miss Ellie," he tells her and sets his eyes onto the road again, using a moniker for her he never does.

She gets the point and shuts her mouth after making her last amends if possible. "I'm sorry for upsetting you."

He doesn't respond and the rest of the ride is back to uncomfortable quiet.

Sam can feel the tension. It's so damn thick he'd need more than a butter knife to cut through it. Whatever happened in town today between his brother and Ellie, it isn't good.

So now, as they sit down to the usual big Sunday meal, Sam looks between the two of them as they eat in near silence. The table is normally filled with talk and laughter, Ellie being quite easy to speak to and light on humor. But today the only sound is utensils scraping plates.

"Alright," Sam declares, putting his fork down and pressing his palms to the tabletop. "What in Sam Hill happened wit you two?"

They both try and put on innocent faces when they pause mid bite to look at him.

"Nothin' happened, Sam. Eat yer food," Dean grumps and scoops another bite of snap peas into his mouth.

"Bull," he calls them out.

"He's right. Nothing happened," Ellie reinforces but Sam's not buying it.

"Ya'll are both terrible liars."

"It's nothing," she tells him and smiles with that fake smile she showed up with two months back. "We just didn't see eye to eye on a matter that is nothing to get concerned about."

Sam glares at them both with disbelief. He then focuses on Dean. "What'd ya do?"

"Me!?" Dean asks with shock.

"Yeah."

"Nothing!"

"And I'm Wild Bill Hickok," Sam calls him out. "What did ya do, Dean?"

"Dean didn't do anything that wasn't within his rights to do," Ellie explains to Sam quickly and with a lack of details. "And I went and put my foot in my mouth about it. It's my fault and I was being out of line." Ellie then glances at Dean out of the corner of her eye, hoping he heard her apology for what it was.

"Well… it wasn't all Ellie's fault," Dean adds in, peeking at Ellie quickly to see that she's also listening. "My behavior ain't always proper an' it don't always make me proud. I make bad decisions. Sometimes I'mma need a reminder that I ain't some mudsill an' I shouldn't be actin' like it."

Dean looks over to Ellie and lets go of a small apologetic smile that lasts all of a second before his stoic face returns.

"You are no mudsill," she says, her mouth turned up in the corners with his way of explaining himself. It amused her greatly.

"An' ya ain't outta line," Dean returns. "Ya care an' I ain't used to that."

And her small smile grow true and bright as the noon sun with that comment.

She drops her fork, her plate mostly done. She picks it up along with the plates of the two men she's dining with. "How 'bout some dessert?" she asks Dean mostly as she stands.

"Ya made some?" he questions, having assumed she'd been too angered by him to make him something like that.

"Of course," she answers, getting up from her seat to clear the dishes. "It's summer. It's berry cobbler season."

Dean lets go of a delighted laugh. "Oh, my-my, El. Am I awful glad ya came 'round our way."

She picks up his plate and pauses while looking at him. He's returned to using her nickname he's made for her. "Me too."

And Sam says nothing at all as his sights shift back and forth between the two of them, confused by whatever the fuck just happened.