A/N: Thanks for every one who's left a review. And don't worry, guys, Scott will soon join the drama.

Chapter 6 – Fredericksburg.

I didn't see James for an entire day after the shooting practice that nearly culminated in us kissing. He had left the ranch before sunrise to run some errands in town and had only returned home by the time that Peter, Kitty, and I were practically done with our dinners.

"I'll warm up some beef stew for you," I offered.

"We need to talk, Red," Logan spoke as he sat down to eat.

Fearing he might bring up what had happened between us on the previous evening, I felt my heart suddenly beating faster. "W-Why?"

"'Cause I accidentally bumped into McCoy today. He asked me how ya were doin'."

"So?" Kitty questioned before I could.

"He was with Bobby Drake," James replied between two slurps of the stew.

His answer clarified absolutely nothing for me, but Katherine seemed to have grasped its significance.

"Damn!" she exclaimed, earning an angry look from her father and a smirk from Rasputin. She blushed. "I-I meant, dang!"

I didn't know where this conversation was heading, but at least it didn't seem to concern any romantic moods between a certain rancher and myself. Good.

"Who's Bobby Drake?" I asked at last.

"He's a salesman at Worthington's Depot, and a well-known rumormonger," Peter responded.

"Meaning…?"

"Meaning, Jean, that the whole Fredericksburg must have heard about dad having a mysterious sister by now," Kitty explained.

"Oh." The Howletts and I had agreed that I would keep a low profile and stay in the ranch as much as I could. Me becoming the town's newest gossip was as far from our plans as possible. "What should I do?"

"First, ya should gimme more of that stew, Red… it tastes too damn good," Logan said to me, a smile forming on the corner of his lips as our eyes met. I felt my cheeks reddening and poured him some more. "Second, I told Hank ya're still grievin' for your late fiancé and that's why ya don't get out much. But Drake insisted to meet ya, so I'm bringin' ya to Fredericksburg tomorrow before he decides to drop by."

"Lo-Logan, I don't think-"

"It was bound to happen, kiddo," he stated, sounding surprisingly calm. "Ya can't stay hidden in the ranch forever. It'll only make ya look fishier."

James was right, I knew it. So far, I had only been in Fredericksburg the day we visited Dr. McCoy. We had been pretty discreet, and if it hadn't been for that Summers fellow barging unannounced in the pharmacy, I would probably have been seen only by the doctor. Now, what Logan was proposing was to introduce me to his acquaintances in town, and I was scared to death that the black hair wouldn't be enough to differentiate Laura Howlett and Jean Grey.

However, James convinced me it was very unlikely that someone from my past could have tracked me to Fredericksburg; on top of that, I recalled having promised to always do as he told me. So, on the next morning, after Peter had loaded the freight wagon with a few bourbon casks, Logan and I left to town.

He let me ride the wagon for most of the way, all the while watching me in maddening silence from under the brim of his cowboy hat.

"What?" I asked when I could no longer stand his gaze.

He chuckled at me. "For a city dame, ya're pretty good with horses."

I tried not to smile. As tempting as it was, flirting with James was unwise. We were supposed to be siblings, for Christ's sake!

Thankfully, it didn't take us long to arrive in Fredericksburg. Switching to an all-business mode, Logan told me to halt the wagon before a hitching post; then he helped me to climb it down and tied the horses.

"Ya let me do the talkin'," he instructed me.

I followed him to the town's main saloon. 'The White Queen' was a tasteful two-store building administered by Miss Emma Frost, a blonde lady in her early thirties who seemed very fond of white outfits with low necklines. Logan explained to me that she had inherited the establishment after her father's passing and was known to manage the place with an iron grip.

The bar itself was located on the first floor. A long mahogany counter displaying an impressive amount of liquor options occupied most of the far wall, with a nice redhaired barman standing behind it. To the left, there was a small stage with an upright piano on the side; to the right, a curved stairway led to the upper story. Square oak tables with matching chairs were positioned all along the saloon, and I could bet that many patrons had lost a significant amount of money to good booze and bad poker games over them. On the second floor, a pair of beautiful young women emerged from one of the rooms being soon followed by a distinguished customer beaming in joy; he pecked both of them on their cheeks and descended the stairs, fidgeting with his wedding ring on the way.

Unlike me, James didn't waste one minute glancing around. As soon as we passed through the swinging doors, he walked to the counter and addressed the bartender.

"Hey, Irish. Is the boss lady around?"

"Logan! How are ye, ol' man?" the redhead greeted him. "Ms. Frost should be coming down in a second. Now tell me… who's the lovely lass with ye?"

James half-turned to me. "This is my sister, Laura Howlett. Laura, meet Sean Cassidy."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Cassidy," I curtsied in his direction.

The man's eyes widened in surprise before a broad grin appeared on his face. "Ye ol' scalawag! Ye never told me ye had a sister!"

"Course not! Didn't want the likes of ya oglin' one o'mine," Logan replied good-humored, prompting the barman to laugh.

It amazed me how James could turn from tense to playful and vice-versa in a matter of seconds. His good mood died as soon as the boss lady appeared.

"Mr. Howlett. What can I do for you so early in the morning?"

The question was directed at my friend, but Emma's icy blue eyes were glued on me.

Logan took off his hat and ran a hand through his messy hair. "Mornin', Ms. Frost. We happened to be in town, and I was wonderin' if The Queen needs more bourbon. We've brought a special batch this time."

"And who we might be?" she asked, staring at me.

"Oh, my apologies, ma'am. This is my kid sister, Laura. She's arrived from Canada a few weeks ago. Laura, this is Miss Emma Frost, the owner of The White Queen."

"It's very nice to meet you," I told her, smiling politely.

She eyed me from head to toe, and I could swear she was trying to guess what was under my dress. For some reason, that woman reminded me of Selene.

"So, Laura… you are new in town," she began.

"I am," I nodded. "I'm still trying to get used to the new environment. Alberta was… well, colder, for starters."

"I bet it was. It must have been a long journey, coming all the way to the States from Canada."

"It was very tiring," I confirmed. It seemed like an appropriate answer, seeing as any cross-country road trip was exhausting.

Getting a little impatient, James cleared his throat. "So, Ms. Frost, about the bourbon-"

Emma ignored him. "It's strange though, because I haven't heard of any stagecoaches arriving in town lately."

"That's because I picked her up in Austin," Logan lied. I had no idea he was such a quick thinker.

"I see," Emma voiced, sounding satisfied with his response. "Tell me, Laura… is there a loved one waiting for you back home?"

"Th-There was," I replied, looking down. I had to pretend to be sad for my late fiancé, after all. I thought of Jason as I added, "He passed away."

"Terrible horse accident," James chimed in. "Laura will be stayin' with me from now on. Now, this batch we've got-"

"Will she?" Again, Ms. Frost didn't let him continue. "And what do you intend to do in Fredericksburg, darling? Find yourself a wealthy husband? Not many good bachelors available, I'm afraid. But you know, you're still young and slender, and with a face like that you could always-"

"Laura's a schoolteacher," Logan declared abruptly, interrupting the blonde this time. "She's been helpin' me with the ranch for now, but she's actually a teacher."

I tried to conceal my surprise at this new fact about my made-up life. Why in God's name was James further sophisticating our story? But Emma's next words made his reasons clear to me.

"Oh, well… I guess a schoolteacher wouldn't be interested in working in a saloon," she said, clearly disappointed. "It's alright, darling, I was looking for a redhead anyway."

I must have paled at her remark because Logan glanced at me with worry and decided to wrap up the conversation.

"We've got other businesses to attend now, Ms. Frost. It was nice seein' ya."

"Wait, Mr. Howlett. It is Friday, and I'm expecting a full house tonight. I'll have two barrels of this special batch of yours; that is, if the price is still the same…"

"It is," he replied. "C'mon, Laura. Ya'll watch the horses while I bring in the barrels."

I said goodbye to Ms. Frost and exited The White Queen after Logan. He was nervous, and I could tell that by the way his fingers twitched as he walked. It looked as if he was craving a cigar, and it wasn't even ten in the morning yet.

I was distressed too. I couldn't believe I had just been offered a job as a prostitute. What an irony it would be, to have escaped from Sebastian Shaw's claws only to end up as a harlot in Texas! I thanked God for having put trustworthy people like Ororo, Kurt, and James on my path.

After delivering the liquor, Logan guided me to a store a couple of blocks away. On the frontage, there was a large wooden-carved sign that read 'Worthington's Depot.'

"You're bringing me here to introduce me to Bobby Drake?" I asked him.

"No. I'm bringin' ya here 'cause ya need new clothes. I'm sure Drake will introduce himself in a moment."

I felt touched by James's action, but I couldn't abuse his generosity. "Logan, I don't want you spending your money on me. You've already bought me this dress," I patted the gown I was wearing, the same that Kitty had given me on my second day with the Howletts.

"Ya can't have two dresses only, Red. Don't worry. As long as ya don't pick anythin' too fancy, I can afford it."

I smiled at him. "Thank you."

"Take your time, kiddo."

I walked to the row of dresses on display in the main aisle. They weren't as upscale as the ones I used to have, but they were of good quality and more appropriate for the hot weather. I stroked the fabrics distractedly, enjoying the feel of silk, cotton, and lace against my palm. Memories of my life with Jason invaded my mind, and I caught myself wondering which dress he would have picked for me.

"The green one in silk would match your eyes perfectly, Miss."

Startled, I turned around to see a young man with light brown eyes and blondish hair smiling at me.

"I-I beg your pardon?"

"Forgive my boldness, but I think you'd look astounding in the green dress, Miss Howlett," he insisted, then continued, "You are Laura Howlett, aren't you? I mean, I just saw Mr. Logan smoking a cigar outside, and suddenly you're here in Worthington's Depot, and I've never seen you around… So I deduced you must be his sister, the one he's told me about. Thank God you don't look like him, though – except maybe for the hair color. I'm Robert Drake, by the way."

His spontaneity was contagious. "I am Laura Howlett. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Drake."

"The pleasure is all mine, ma'am," he said. "I've noticed that you've been eyeing the light blue gown with the cinched waste… a remarkable piece, I must say. Would you like to try it? I can ask Ms. Blaire to accompany you to the fitting room."

I checked the price tag. "It's a beautiful gown, but I'm afraid it's a little above my budget. Do you mind showing me something more affordable?"

"Absolutely."

Robert must have showed me at least ten different dresses before I finally decided for one in lavender. I also picked some stockings and underwear because I couldn't keep borrowing them from Kitty. When it was time to pay, James joined us inside. He told Drake to add a pair of lace-up leather boots and a handbag to the bill.

"Logan, you don't need to-"

"My treat, Laura. Don't fret about it." In public, he was always careful not to use my real name.

We were about to leave when a distinguished couple entered the store, linking arms. The woman was beautiful, with chin-length dark hair and blue eyes; for his turn, the man was simply stunning, with his face neatly shaved and his golden locks hidden under a stylish topper. They greeted James and I en passant, but the gentleman's ocean-blue eyes followed us as we exited the shop.

"Who are they?" I inquired while we strolled back to the wagon.

"Those snob people? They're Mr. and Mrs. Warren Worthington," James answered.

"You mean, that's the owner of Worthington's Depot?"

"The one and only. He also owns a couple of farms upstate, the bank, and half of the railroad company that runs across the State."

"Wow. Looks and money… I guess some folks just have it all, huh?"

I heard Logan's irked grunt as he placed the boxes with my new acquisitions in the rear of the wagon.

"Don't tell me you have issues with him," I said.

He sighed. "No, not issues. It's just that Kitty's got a crush on that rich brat – half the girls in this town have. Don't know what they see in him."

"I do."

He raised one eyebrow at me. "Ya like him too?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "He's attractive."

"He's annoyin'."

I laughed at James's irritation. "Well, I wouldn't know that, would I? But I do know that he's married, therefore it doesn't matter what I think of him. Besides, I'm not interested in a relationship."

"Really?" Logan questioned as he helped me to the wagoner's seat.

"Really."

He regarded me with one of his trademark wolfish grins that always made my legs weak. "I'll ask ya again in a couple of weeks."

"I won't have changed my mind," I replied.

"We'll see," James said as he sat beside me. He grasped the reins and urged the horses to drive us away.

As we were leaving Fredericksburg, we passed by the town's church. Standing in front of its double doors, a bald priest was talking to a tall man that seemed somewhat familiar to me. I noticed that he carried a gold star on his vest.

"Isn't that the gentleman who barged into Dr. McCoy's pharmacy while I was having my wrist fixed?"

Logan barely spared a glance at the men. "Summers. Yes."

"He's the town's sheriff?"

My friend grunted again, this time louder. "Yes."

I tried not to grin. "Let me guess… you don't like him either."

"I don't like anyone carryin' a badge, Red."

"And why is that?"

"'Cause… never mind."

Logan's remark made me recall the conversation I had eavesdropped between him and Kurt regarding some risky business and a shipment that hadn't arrived on time. I wondered what that had been about and made a mental note to ask him in the future.

On the following day, Bobby Drake showed up on our doorstep carrying three boxes with the Worthington's Depot's seal on them.

"It's a gift, Ms. Howlett," he explained as he placed the boxes on the kitchen table.

"A gift? From whom? To whom?" I inquired.

"From Mr. Worthington to you, of course. He asked me to deliver it in person."

I was taken aback by that information. "He did? W-Why? I-I don't even know him."

"But apparently, he knows you," the salesman replied. "He knows everyone."

Curious, I opened the first box. The blue dress that I had seen the day before in the store and had liked so much was in there, together with a matching hat. The other boxes were also filled with fine pieces of clothing, a parasol, and even one perfume bottle.

I closed them and looked at Drake. "Thank you, but I can't accept these."

"You must, Ms. Howlett. I was told not to take anything back."

"Look, Mr. Drake, I don't know what your boss expects of me-"

"Only that you wear these superb outfits in public, ma'am. Mr. Worthington believes that it would be good for business if a lady as lovely as yourself was seen clad in one of his dresses. He said he'd be honored."

"He wants me to wear them in public? That's all?" I asked, suspicious.

"That's all."

"Are you sure?"

"I am," Bobby reiterated. "He also asked me to tell you that in case you or your brother ever find yourselves in need of financial support, not to hesitate to visit him at the bank. Well, forgive me now, but I must return to the shop. Farewell, Ms. Howlett."

Drake left as suddenly as he had appeared. Logan arrived home a couple of hours later only to see Kitty and I drooling over the new clothes. To say that he was mad at Warren Worthington was a big understatement.

"That filthy scumbag, thinkin' everyone's for sale! I'll show him where he can shove his money!"

James wanted to return the items to Mr. Worthington himself, but Katherine reasoned that such a reaction could jeopardize my cover.

"Why would an older brother get so bothered by some gentleman sending nice gifts to his single sister?" she argued.

"'Cause the bastard's married and Red's not for sale, that's why!"

I could tell that Logan was jealous – really jealous. He didn't return the gifts in the end, but he did spend the rest of the day in an awful mood, drinking and smoking on the porch by himself. That made me realize that our flirting was not so innocent as I liked to think.

It was getting out of control. Sooner or later, James and I would have to discuss our feelings for each other.