Author's Note: Thanks go again to fictorium for beta services.
Part 4
.
By midday, even exuberant Grace was exhausted. The girl constantly had circulated between Caroline, Vivian and Regina, and Emma filled with curious questions. Each time Emma stood from her perch, behavior Regina classified as 'gentlemanly'. She patiently explained something different about her attire, her horse, or her weapons.
So close by, and since distracting herself from the smells of the sheep's wool wasn't completely accomplished with the chatter from Vivian, Regina found herself listening to these little tidbits of the life and ways of the gunslinger. Emma referred to the work she did as "bounty hunting." She also said she'd never had to kill anyone, though she had nearly lost her own life twice. Grace's gasp had covered Regina's own at this point. On another visit from the curious girl, Emma described her Colt Frontier .45 as a gift, and but the knife from her boot as a trophy.
Beyond learning again the origin of Bug's name, Regina also overheard Emma tell Grace about bedding down in the Sonoran Desert and Bug smashing a "rattler long as a rifle" beneath his hooves before it could strike. That had been, Emma confessed to Grace, one of the two times she'd almost lost her life. Grace had oohed as expected; Regina's curiosity had grown. She couldn't help wondering what had happened the other time?
Finally, sweat-soaked, Regina waved at Vivian over the last ewe, her signal to desist. The woman nodded gratefully, used her forearm to wiped her brow, and fetched a canteen from among the gingham-covered supplies keeping relatively cool in the shade of a rock shelf about six feet off the ground.
Regina strode to her horse, calling to Grace and Caroline as she untied her canteen from beneath a saddle flap. "Break time," she said. "Grace, come drink some water before we head back."
The sand rustled behind Regina. Studiously she ignored the approach of Emma Swan despite the fact that she could feel the blonde woman approaching as though a wave of heat preceded her. It warmed her back, then her belly, and finally her stomach flipped. She splashed water from the canteen on the back of her neck and took a healthy swallow from the open spout. Grace accepted the canteen and drank heartily while Regina splashed a bit of water on the back of the girl's neck as well. "Time to go," she repeated to the girl.
"I could stay," Grace said. "I can help."
Regina hesitated, but Caroline approached and, after a nod to Regina, spoke. "We always can use another set of willing hands. I can send her back with Vivian for supper." Caroline settled a companionable hand on Grace's shoulder.
Regina took the two bags of wool from Vivian who had tied each at the top with several loops of rope. They were ridiculously heavy and Regina felt her back twinge as she accepted the weight.
Straining, she dropped one before lifting the other up until she could tie the remaining length of rope to a buckle on her saddle. Suddenly the heft was less strenuous, and Regina turned to find Emma Swan standing inches away, both arms engaged in lifting the bag from below.
The blonde made no sound while Regina finished securing the bag, causing the saddle to lean hard to the weighted side.
Regina stifled her exhalation as she picked up the second bag and waddled with to the other side of her horse. Emma was there, again, without a word, lifting it to make the tying go much more quickly.
The saddle adjusted back to the center with the equally balanced weight. Regina lifted her body onto the saddle and turned her horse back to town.
She was dozens of lengths away when she realized she had neglected to say goodbye to vivian and Caroline as was normal. A turn in the saddle found Emma Swan following on her steed, lazy a pace as you please.
Regina snapped her gaze forward, resolute to ignore the gunslinger. However, her shadow continued to follow at an unsettling distance that was both too close and too far away for Regina's comfort, the sounds of their horses' hooves slapping against the earth breaking the monotonous silence.
Regina rode back to Book's Pass Livery and swung down inside the barn. She growled at Ruby Lucas when the woman offered to see to her horse. Regina's frustration had mounted over the miles to town, Emma Swan's green gaze a heat against her spine and neck. She felt vulnerable and out of control. Taking off the bridle, Regina tied the lead rope to his halter and secured to the peg over the stall trough. While he nosed through the water, light puffs of air the only sign she had been pushing him hard the last mile, Regina unbelted his saddle and slipped it from his back, before tossing it over the top railing of the stall. The metal of her stirrups banged against the wood and it sounded as angry as she felt. Grimly she smiled before retrieving the brush from the outside rack. A glance around found her alone and she minutely exhaled. She stepped out the back to the handpump and filled two buckets full of water before returning to her horse's side.
He eyed her gratefully while she dumped the buckets into the trough. She patted his neck and started brushing his coat, short strokes forward, then long strokes back, conditioning it.
She was working down his foreleg, about to lift his hoof into her hands to examine the frog and check the shoe and nail, when she felt warmth return to her neck. She straightened rigidly, squeezing her hands into fists at her sides, and whirled. "Miss Swan! Kindly -"
Her words died in her throat. Ruby Lucas stood in the stall opening, holding out a jug to the full length of her arms, and they were shaking. The young woman's eyes were wide, the whites startling in contrast to her tanned skin. She watched Regina closely, uncertainly, as though Regina was a bobcat as likely to use its claws as retreat.
Regina's ire had nowhere to go, and the drain of it left her body weak and shaking. She stumbled to the wall and laid her head against it. "Miss Lucas," she said, her voice shaking.
"It's just water," Ruby said and her voice wasn't quite steady either. "Thought you might want some."
Regina took the jug and lifted the opening to her mouth, drinking several swallows before returning it. "I... I apologize. Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Regina stepped out of the stall, dropping the cross bar into place. She looked up and down the line of stalls.
"She's not here," Ruby said. "She was behind you when you entered the livery, but turned her horse's head to the south when you came inside."
Regina nodded, too tired to deny that she had been searching for Emma Swan. South. A strange taint emerged in her mouth, bitter. South was the way out of town. So Emma Swan was finally leaving Book's Pass.
"I must be getting home," she murmured, her throat surprisingly tight.
"You have a nice afternoon, Miss Regina."
Emma Swan leaned against the wall in the shadows of the General Store porch, eyes spying on Miss Regina conversing with Ruby Lucas in front of the livery at the other end of the street. The two dark-haired women were as different as night and day. Ruby was all gangly and youthful eagerness, bare elbows and knees with her short overalls, and midnight black hair hanging in a braid down her back. Regina, on the other hand, drew Emma's attention with an air of reserve as dark and varied as the browns in the woman's hair pinned up artfully, if a bit raggedly now after the morning's work. The dress, though clearly well-sewn at the hands of a skilled seamstress, was function more than fashion. And it showed the curves of a mature woman's figure.
Regina's chin was tight, the jaw squared, a dare to the world to deny her a place in it. Brown eyes looked briefly toward the General Store and Emma held her breath, freezing in place, not wanting to be seen.
Whatever thought then crossed Regina's face brought with it lowered lids and rounded shoulders. Sadness, Emma read far too easily. The sight of it affected her, as everything about Miss Regina Mills had affected Emma Swan since that first meeting on the porch of the woman's establishment.
Her gaze followed the woman until she had walked out of sight down the street leading to the brothel.
.