Author's Note: This story is now finished! All I have to do is edit and post. So here's the beginning of the end!
Chapter notes: Emma comes in from working on Regina's property to find Vivian who says Regina has gone into town. And apparently Grace is going to meet her there. To leave.
.
Part 10
Emma started to search around for a lantern when she realized the reason she wanted one was the sunset blazing in the western sky. The long shadows were finally making it too difficult to see her work. She wiped her hands on her pants and pulled off her wide brim hat, running her fingers through her sweat-soaked locks. Best be getting up to the house, return Regina's pitcher, she thought, staring at it sitting on the barn floor a few feet away. She still wasn't sure if she could take the 'message' from the pitcher and be who Regina wanted her to be, but there was no more light to work, so… time to face the music.
Walking to the house, Emma noticed that most of the lights were off. She wondered if any of the men of Book's Pass had come by the house looking for services. She decided it would be better if she came to the back door with the pitcher.
Standing and waiting after the knock, Emma wiped her feet, set down the pitcher and snatched off her hat once more to wipe the sweat from her brow. "Manners," she muttered to herself. She rapped again at the door, heard footsteps inside and pulled her fingers quickly through the tangles of her hand to make herself more presentable.
Her face blossomed into a smile as the door swung open. When she identified the woman before her, however, her expression fell off the happy heights she had been walking since lunchtime lemonade. "Uh."
"She's gone on business."
"Oh." Emma chastised herself for her disappointment no doubt plain on her face. Why had she thought Regina would see her anytime; she had no reason to make herself available simply because Emma was. "I, uh, finished fixing the barn, and, uh." She stopped her stuttering and gestured to the step. "I brought back the pitcher." She hurriedly retrieved it as the woman studied her from beneath lowered brows. "I...can wash it, if you want?"
The woman - Vivian, Emma recalled her name - took a step back. "You may," she said.
"All right." Emma hesitated just inside the door, waiting for Vivian to close it and lead her further inside.
"You know where it is," Vivian said, pointing.
"I...yes." Emma shook herself. "I'll be quick. I won't get in the way."
"You already have," Vivian said, though it was muttered and maybe Emma wasn't supposed to hear.
She had anyway. "Is everything all right?"
"I told you Regina's in town on business."
"What is she doing?"
"None of your business."
Just then Grace came down the stairs carrying a worn satchel. "Miss Emma?"
"Hey, Grace."
"You come to take me?"
"What?"
"To the station. Miss Regina, she's sending me to San Francisco."
"She's doing what?" Emma looked from Grace to Vivian. "Is she serious?"
"She can't stay here. We're not a wayward home and we're not equipped to keep Jameson away forever."
"Who'll care for her?" Emma's hands fisted. "She can't be put out on her own."
"I was younger than her when I set out west on my own."
"But that's you. Look at her, she's no more than a kid."
"So you think she can stay in a whorehouse?"
"She's a cattleman's daughter. Let her tend to the farm stuff. Maybe you can make a better go of that!"
"Some of us don't want to roll in sheep shit for the rest of our lives."
"You think whoring is going to change that?" Emma shook her head. "Did you convince her to do this? I thought you and Regina were friends."
"We are." But Vivian dropped her gaze slightly when Emma set her jaw.
Emma grabbed Grace's hand. "You go on upstairs and unpack. I'm gonna get Regina back here."
"I should go. I don't want to put the other women in danger any more," Grace said.
"So you got to her too?" Emma groused at Vivian.
"With sense," Vivian insisted. "You're just like him, y'know. All nobility and no sense. You can't fight everything the world is."
"I've been on my own since…" Emma shook her head. "No. You don't deserve to know me."
Vivian was caught by the arm. "What?"
"When does the coach come through?"
"About an hour."
Emma stalked out of the front door.
Grace followed.
###
"'Nother cup, Regina?"
Regina Mills looked up from the bottom of her empty coffee mug to see Eugenia Lucas leaning on the frame between the kitchen and the dining area holding a tin pot.
"Are you trying to keep me awake?" Regina asked. She nevertheless held the cup up and watched Eugenia pour and then sit at the table across from her.
"Ain't that what you doin'?" Eugenia asked. "You been sittin' here since I cleared out everybody else, jus' sippin'. Don' ya gotta be gettin' on to yer place?"
"What? You need the table for other customers?"
"Don' be foolish. So, tell me, what business is keepin' you up so late?"
"Night time is my time," Regina replied. "As you well know."
"Can't blame me for guessin'. Things have been all topsy turvy with that lady gunslinger moseyin' in and making waves in this parched desert town. Leads one to thinkin' things might not always stay the same."
"Emma certainly did upend things around here."
"Wee bit." Eugenia demonstrated with her thumb and forefinger parted slightly in the air between them. "T'be honest, though, she didn't start nothing. She jus' carryin' on."
"Is that so?"
"There's more agree with you than Jameson. This ain't the East. We ought to run ourselves by different rules."
"You make me sound positively subversive, Eugenia. I just sheltered a girl who asked for my help like any good christian would."
"Our Lord Savior was a subversive then, too," Eugenia stated, trying out the word. "In His day they been all y'ain't s'posed t'hang with them folk." Eugenia smiled. "But He done it anyways."
Regina dipped her head to hide her heated cheeks, the praise a shock.
"So, what're you plannin'?" Eugenia's question brought Regina's head back up.
"Who says I'm planning anything?"
"Yer never in town on a workin' night."
Regina shook her head. "You old wolf," she laughed a little and sighed. In a low voice she let out her secret. "I bought Grace a ticket on the night coach. Vivian is bringing her when it's full dark."
"Jameson ain't gonna like that."
"He isn't going to know about it 'til she's too far away to catch."
Eugenia patted her arm following the undertone of threat. "He won't hear none from me or mine. My Ruby she's taken a shine to Miss Emma, and this is probably her idea."
Regina balked at the idea that Ruby might be interested in Emma. But she was firm, with her mind on the task when she informed Eugenia, "Emma doesn't know."
"She don't?"
Regina shook her head. "I don't want her to catch Jameson's wrath anymore than she already has."
"That woman seems mighty capable of takin' care of herself. And what about how angry Jameson'll be when he finds out you done it?"
"He won't do anything to me."
"What's to stop him?"
Regina toyed with her mug's handle, the solidity soothing her. So when she lifted her eyes to Eugenia's once more, they held the glint of steel he'd taught her to have. "I have information that Daniel found. Vivian has instructions to deliver it to the circuit judge if anything happens to me."
Eugenia's jaw dropped a moment, then snapped shut and a smirk curved her lips. "You call me the wolf but, I'll be damned, you got some wily fox in you, Miss Regina."
Regina dipped her head, this time accepting the accolade with a tiny smile.
###
Emma crouched outside in the shadows of the inn, watching through the window as Regina and Eugenia talked. Unable to hear what they were saying, nonetheless she saw Eugenia laugh, Regina smile, and then slowly get to her feet.
Looking around as Regina emerged onto the inn's porch and pushed back deeper into the shadows, Emma was glad she had managed to turn Grace back before they reached the livery. She was going to fetch Regina, have her give back the ticket, and take the woman home, where she hoped to be able to snuggle up with her - after enduring the spitfire's anger for interfering. But Emma was certain she was better in the know about how this would all end if Regina was successful in getting Grace on that night coach.
Regina walked toward the station, moving in and out of the lamp lights. Emma kept to the shadows behind her, boots barely making a sound on the dirt since she avoided the wood planks forming the main walkway in front of the businesses.
The door chime at the station jangled as Regina pushed open the office door. Emma hugged the side of the building out of sight when Regina turned to enter. Creeping toward the corner to see if the way was clear, Emma caught movement in shadows across the street.
She growled, recognizing Grace with a kerchief tied around her hair crouched behind a hitching post. Her satchel lay on the ground beside her.
Voices sounded in the stagecoach office and Emma watched the porch light flame to life, a signal to the incoming coach that there was a passenger pickup to be made. Beneath the lamp light, Regina handed the man the ticket and settled to the bench.
What? Was Regina planning to leave instead? Emma crouched by the building watching the station manager lock up. The keys jangled in his pocket as he sauntered on to his home.
Emma watched Regina for a moment more. The woman continued to sit, appearing quiet and relaxed.
After a few minutes, Regina looked up, and fumbling through her bag, she seemed to drop a white kerchief to the ground.
Grace crept forward. Emma's eyes narrowed. No, Regina had been watching the street for activity, and signaled now to Grace that the area was clear.
Emma scanned the area herself, eyes more used to the darkness. As Grace started to move so, too, did a shadowy bulk over at the general store. Emma didn't recognize the shape, suspecting it wasn't Jameson, but a hired hand. Emma crept into position and slipped her gun from its holster.
Emma crept toward the shadow and cold-cocked him behind the ear with the heavy iron of her gun's barrel. He went down with barely a sound. Emma paused as his face was caught in the moonlight. She sighed. He looked young but she put him from her mind as she crept past his unconscious body.
She looked around but did not see any other unwanted onlookers.
She heard the rumbling of the stagecoach wheels and the pounding of the horses' hooves approaching from the east and stepped out from her shadows.
"Regina! Stop!" The brunette rose from her seat, eyes landing on Emma, expression anxious. Emma wanted to reassure her. She started forward.
"Emma?" Grace turned. "No!"
Emma heard the click of a hammer and spun, already raising her gun's barrel. Regina's cry sounded close. Emma fired her weapon toward the click over by the general store. A body slammed into hers, followed by a scream.
She felt the dirt and wood under her face as she hit the deck. Her head hit the side of the building where she'd leaped and gray fogged her senses.
"You shot him!"
Emma winced and opened her eyes, looking up at the young man she thought she had knocked out. He stared down at her along the shaking barrel of a gun he held between both fists. He might not hit her, but she didn't react well to a gun in her face in any case. Emma jerked her hand even before the idea fully formed and grasped her fallen gun.
"Stop! Nick, stop!"
The young man above her responded to Grace's voice and looked away from Emma. Though not lowering her gun, Emma kicked at his hands; his weapon clattered into the street. The young man's shoulders sagged as he stared at her almost dumbly.
"What'd you do that for?" he groused at Grace who came stomping onto the decking; Emma really wished the girl wouldn't rattle the boards like that, because her back ached something fierce.
"Stop," Grace said. "Daddy's dead."
"You cain't tell me what to do," Nick said.
"Pa is dead. I'm his only heir. You work for me now," Grace said confidently.
Emma's pain-fogged brain registered that Jameson, somehow miraculously, was dead. Must've been her shot into the dark what killed him. She rolled over only to find a dark-haired form on the ground beside her. Immediately she recognized, reached, and yelled, "Regina!"
"I think my pa shot her," Grace said, leaning over both of them, looking at Regina. Emma sat up, gripping Regina's body and sorting out the source of the blood she felt warmly coating her hands. She gripped reflexively tighter when she realized it was Regina's left upper arm. The squeeze woke Regina, who had likely passed out from the pain, back awake to experience the full pain of her injury.
She cried out. Emma rocked her. The stagecoach clattered to a stop in the street. "Somebody need a ride?"
No one answered him. The coach driver hopped down, and several owners from the surrounding businesses converged on the tiny porch where Emma Swan rocked Regina Mills, who had once again fallen unconscious, and 14-year old Grace Jameson stood guard over a shame-faced looking Jason Gantry, cowhand at the Jameson Ranch.
###