A/N: Sorry for the long delay in this update. My beta even took care of this bit several weeks ago. Only thing I can say is the school year started and time isn't much my own right now. Anyway, here's the next part of "A Western Welcome." Thanks to everyone who continues to have interest in this AU version of Emma and Regina.
Part 6
Emma and Regina ran to the building which served Book's Pass as both a school and a church hall, drawing up when they recognized the impact of what they are about to do. They faced a sea of wagons and a few horses. But they knew, like themselves, even more people came on foot. The building was going to be packed.
Regina held her free hand to her chest, and she breathed deeply, the run having winded her. Emma bit her lip at the sight. She herself hadn't set a foot in a prayer meeting in years.
She squared her shoulders. But Grace and Jameson were in there, and Emma had an obligation. She stepped forward, putting a booted foot on the first step up into the church. She felt a tug on her arm and looked down to see she still held Regina's hand.
"Are you sure we really need to do this?" Regina asked. "Certainly no one is going to hurt Grace while the pastor's watching."
Following the arm back and up, she met widening brown eyes. When was the last time Regina had entered a church? Emma rubbed her thumb over the back of the hand in her own. Regina bit her lower lip. The sight made Emma consider an action both brave and foolish and she stared at Regina's beleaguered lip, her tongue coming out to wet her own.
Her intention must have shown in her face because Regina's cheeks filled with ruddy color before she pushed her shoulders back under Emma's continued regard. "Miss Swan, I believe you and I have a responsibility awaiting us inside."
Emma's lips turned up in a pride-filled grin at the words. Pride goeth before a fall, she quoted to herself and managed to douse her expression, keeping Regina's hand in hers. She pulled Regina up the steps to join her and held the door for the other woman to enter first, removing her new hat with a sweeping gesture.
Regina's hand pulled from hers in the action of passing through the door and her body tantalized Emma's with its close and inviting heat. Emma inhaled in surprise which filled her lungs with the woman's scent, a mixture of soap and apples. She exhaled slowly, trying to hold the scents close, and followed Regina inside the entry space.
They stopped before the double doors leading to the actual meeting room. Just as Emma reached for the door a deep voice rumbled through the tiny opening and made her stop mid-motion.
"... and He chastised them saying do not hold back the innocent. For all of my Father's kingdom shall belong to them who are pure of heart and loving all."
Emma glanced at Regina and saw the brunette's throat move in a girding swallow. All right, Emma thought, as she heard feet shuffling. If everyone was getting to their feet, the two of them could slip into the back unnoticed.
But they had obviously miscalculated how long these folk spent at their Sunday prayers. This was no intermediate hymn. Emma opened the door only to sweep Regina behind her with a broad hand across the woman's chest. Four wide, the entire population of Book's Pass seemed intent to run them down.
Social chatter filled the air, at first. Then someone recognized Emma standing against the door. "Gunslinger," she heard the whisper moving from one woman to the next. A few men snapped their gazes to her when they overheard the womenfolk. Emma said nothing and kept Regina behind her with a warning squeeze. She hoped the brunette remained silent as well.
Almost as abruptly as the foyer filled, it emptied into the yard, leaving Emma and Regina feeling as though they had been in the midst of a cattle stampede. Regina's chest, pressed against Emma's back, pounded a frantic rhythm. Emma hadn't seen Grace, though she had glimpsed several of the women from the brothel in the sea of humanity flowing from the church pews.
Regina pulled herself around Emma and charged into the sanctuary. Emma stayed right on her heel. They both let out a sigh of relief at the sight of Grace seated in a pew with Areliz's arm wrapped around her shoulders. Both had their heads bowed. The sudden sound of a sob drove both Emma and Regina forward in a rush. "Areliz," Regina demanded, coming alongside the two in their pew. "What happened?"
Areliz's head jerked up in surprise. "Oh, Miss Regina, 'tis a'right. Miss Grace havin' a bit o' 'motions seein' her padre."
Emma leaned forward. "You sure?"
"He scowled somethin' fierce, but he done nothing."
"We're here to see that continues," Regina said. "Now, come along. We'll go home for luncheon." She pulled Grace into her arms as she helped her out of the pew. With Emma and Areliz flanking the two, Regina walked the sniffling Grace out of the church. The girl pressed Regina's silk handkerchief to her eyes as the foursome emerged into the noon sun.
Emma slapped her hat back on her head, and Regina and Areliz tugged their bonnets over their hair. Regina's hand squeezed Grace's shoulder as all their eyes came up and they looked out on a sea of eyes staring back at them.
It's the scene from the brothel porch all over again, Emma thought. She spotted Jameson reacting to another man's pointing, no doubt informing him his daughter was present. The cattle rancher had one foot on the running board of his wagon and the other still on the ground. In a trice he turned around and stomped toward them.
"Good Sunday to you, Mr. Jameson," Emma tried for a civil intervention, stepping between his glower and Regina and his daughter. "Lord's rest be with you."
His jaw dropped when he turned from his daughter to face Emma instead. "Stay out of my way, Swan."
She nodded agreeably. "You turn 'round right now and walk back to your wagon and I won't cross your path." She reached out and nudged Regina's hip, indicating the woman should precede her with Grace down the steps.
Jameson stared at Grace; the girl hesitated and glanced up at him. Their expressions were both pained. Regina's hand lifted from the girl's shoulder. "Daddy," Grace began.
"Yes, baby girl?" His voice was so full of hope, Emma almost expected his face to redden and his eyes to gloss.
"Good Sunday to you," she said after another moment searching his eyes. Then she turned her back on him and walked away.
Jameson launched himself at Regina who turned to follow Grace. His hand caught the brunette's shoulder, near-strangling her with the bonnet ties as it tangled against her throat. Regina cried out, pulling at the bonnet ties and trying to gasp for breath at the same time. Emma wrenched Jameson away from Regina and the woman fell to the ground. Areliz and Grace bent immediately to help her. But Emma saw red. She kicked out a foot and threw her arm into Jameson's chest, knocking him over her leg. He landed on his back, dirt puffing up around his body on impact. She had her gun drawn and aimed at his chest before he could catch his breath or draw his own gun from where it sat on his hip; she saw his fingers inching toward it.
"Mr. Jameson, it's Sunday and I would have thought you a man to refrain from violence on a holy day. Perhaps you need to return inside and continue your prayers."
She twitched her thumb as if to cock her gun. His eyes widened and grimly she smiled at his fear. That's right. I ain't no saint. Flashing behind her mind's eye was Regina going down to her knees, choking under his grip; her cry of alarm ringing in Emma's ears. Emma waited a beat and then leaned back finger moving away from the hammer slowly, before returning the gun to her holster.
"Good day, Mr. Jameson." Emma turned her back on him and gathered the women before her, nudging Areliz ahead with Grace while she walked shoulder to shoulder with Regina behind them. The other women from the brothel gradually join them and the group, Emma as their rear guard, left the property without looking back.
Emma turned her gaze back briefly when she turned a corner and witnessed Jameson mangling his hat in his fists as the preacher talked with him.
Regina and Emma fell further and further behind the other women. Regina was silent. Emma could sense the brunette's anger because her steps grew firmer until she was stomping. The sight made Emma's lips twitch in amusement. Her gaze was so enthralled with Regina Mills, she didn't realize they were completely alone in the shadow of a building until Regina threw her against the wall. Emma's reflexes reacted to the threat before her brain reminded her it was Regina and she jammed her forearm into a throat and made the other woman gag when she twisted and slammed the brunette into the wall.
"Regina!" Emma's voice filled with surprise. "What in God's name?" She threw her arms away and down, backing away from the brunette.
Rubbing her throat, Regina winced; Emma winced, too. She hadn't meant to hit the woman so hard, damn her instincts. Regina found her voice. "You must leave. Right now."
"I'm sorry I hurt you. But you can't attack someone like me without warning, Regina."
"Better me than Jameson in the dark of night!"
"Jameson will never get the drop on me," Emma assured. "Are you sure you're all right?" Regina was still rubbing her throat.
"Get away from me!" Regina pushed at Emma, but instead of falling back, Emma grasped her forearms and held them both in place.
I'm not leaving, Regina, not until Jameson understands a woman's life is her own."
"He won't stop coming after Grace unless you leave."
"You can't know that."
"You have embarrassed him twice now in front of the entire town. He's going to kill you."
"No, he won't."
"He will!" Regina's outburst startled Emma enough that she stumbled from Regina's lunge. But Emma was still quicker and once again grabbed her hands and held the brunette in place before her. "Let me go!"
"No." The brunette struggled against Emma's hold and Emma finally pressed full length against her to calm her wrestling. Faces inches apart, Emma felt Regina's breath, harsh and shortened. The brown eyes were rapidly shifting from angry to scared.
Her instinct to comfort this woman driving her, Emma leaned in closer and Regina's eyes widened. She brushed her cheek against the brunette's and caught some of the silken dark hair against her lips. "Regina," she said, her voice barely a whisper. She wrapped her arms around Regina's back.
Fists trapped and fidgeting against Emma's chest between them, Regina whispered, "He'll kill you. He will." Fear trickled through Regina's words.
"He won't." Emma's lips brushed against Regina's ear and she felt the brunette shudder in her arms. "I'll protect Grace. I'll protect you." At the same time she said it, Emma acknowledged she would welcome killing Jameson, but not for Grace. It would be because he hurt Regina.
"Stop. Please. Stop. You need to stop defending me. I'm not worth it." Regina's words fell onto Emma's shoulder, where the brunette was pressing her mouth, trying to stem the fear-filled words.
Emma put her hands to either side of Regina's head, lifting her face between her palms. "What idiot told you that?"
"Why must you endanger yourself opposing that man?" Regina asked instead of answering.
"I asked you a question first, Regina Mills. What idiot said you were not worth defending?"
"I know what I am, Miss Swan. I will not allow someone else to die defending me. If you will not leave alone, I will see that Grace is packed and can leave with you tonight."
Emma frowned. In her puzzlement, she backed away from Regina. Regina pulled at her dress in various places, resettling it into neat lines. Automatically mirroring the action, Emma tugged her vest into place. She paused with her hand on her belt. "Someone else?"
Regina ignored her and walked away; Emma stared after her, drinking in the lines of the woman who seemed determined to push her away with every increasing stride. The silence seemed brittle; Emma knew she was guessing rightly even as she asked, "Regina, who died defending you?"
The brunette didn't answer, but her shoulders stiffened as if she'd been struck a blow. Knowing she would get no further with direct questioning, Emma strode quickly for the inn. One of the Lucas women had to know the story.
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