A/N: I don't own Glee. I just play with the characters sometimes.

This is an AU story, totally AU although you may recognize a few of the characters hanging around. The setting will become obvious pretty quickly. What you need to know? Cowboy. Finn. Yay. This will definitely be T in later chapters, as those two crazy kids get acquainted. K for now.

Rachel adjusted her bonnet as she walked into Schue's Saloon. Squinting against the abrupt change in brightness as she walked out of the noonday sun into the establishment's darkened interior, she tamped down tightly on the wave of hysteria that threatened to claw its way unbidden from her throat.

'Establishment,' she thought, snorting softly to herself. The place was little better than a brothel, and Rachel found herself once again questioning her own judgment and sanity in making the trip west to the Montana territory.

The war had ended ten years ago, and still people looked at her with suspicion when they heard her distinctly northern accent. Rachel knew that most folks this far west had no stake in the war either way, but upon arriving, found many retired Confederates still willing to take issue with her 'Yankee' status.

Wrinkling her nose slightly, Rachel surveyed what would potentially be her new place of employment, as well as her new home.

It smelled, she decided, quite horrible. Like alcohol and sweat, and perhaps manure. She wasn't sure, having smelled little in the way of manure during her nineteen years.

Looking at the stage on the far end of the bar, she found herself thoroughly scandalized by the barely-clad women performing a bawdy dance to the delight of a small throng of men gathered just far enough away to throw coins at the dancers.

Smothering a gasp, Rachel turned abruptly on her heel. Surely Mr. Schuester had misunderstood the kind of entertainment she was willing to provide. Despite being clear in all correspondence that she was a singer, he must still have gotten the wrong impression.

She was almost out the door when a voice called out to her, "Ms. Berry? Rachel? Rachel, wait!"

Shocked by what she had seen, what she had smelled, Rachel froze at the friendly-sounding voice and pasted on her best smile, "Mr. Schuester?" she guessed timidly, taking in the jovial appearance of a slimly built man in a barkeep's outfit.

"Please, call me Will. Why, you're a tiny slip of a thing, Ms. Berry! I hardly saw you over the bar. Where were you headed in such a hurry when you just got here?"

Rachel felt a blush creep up over her cheeks. Not wanting to offend the man, since he seemed so kind, she chewed thoughtfully on her lip before answering, "Mr. Schu…Will…I'm not sure you understood what kind of…services I offer," her voice trailed off as she looked meaningfully at the stage.

He laughed, a loud guffaw, "Oh, Ms. Berry, I would never expect a lady such as yourself to be willing to dance in her knickers. No, my offer for you is legitimate. I'd like you to audition as a singer. If you and I can come to terms, you would sing in here three evenings a week. I can provide you with a room upstairs, if you need a place to stay."

A little bit of the tension eased from her chest, and Rachel felt herself relax slightly.

"Well, when would you like me to audition?" she removed her bonnet and shook out her dark brown curls.

"Will?" the man looked stunned.

"You're quite a beauty, Ms. Berry," Will smirked happily, "If your voice is half as pretty as you are, I'll have no problem packing this place whenever you sing."

Her blush intensified, but Rachel said nothing, not sure if this man was propositioning her or complimenting her.

"Now is as good a time as any Ms. Berry," he turned towards the stage, "Tina! Brittany! Santana! Clear the stage girls."

The men who had been enjoying the show let out a collective groan.

"Boys, boys," Will soothed, "You're in for a real treat. May I present to you the New York educated and trained, Ms. Rachel Berry!"

The silence in the room was tense as Rachel pulled sheet music from her satchel and spoke briefly with the piano player.

She felt the harsh stares of the disgruntled bar patrons as she climbed the short flight of stairs to the stage. She heard the whispers of the displaced dancers as they watched from the wings behind her.

Rachel ignored all of the noises. Clearing her throat, she quickly removed her travelling coat and laid it on a nearby barstool. She nodded once to the piano player, and the strains of a familiar and haunting melody from her childhood drifted in the air.

All thoughts fled her mind as she opened her mouth and began to sing.

Finn Hudson was going to get drunk. Not just inebriated. Not just muddle-headed. But rip-roaring, falling-down drunk. He was a man with a plan. Nothing would deter him.

Quinn had left him. She had well and truly left him.

Shaking his head as he dismounted his horse and tied it to a hitching post, he mentally amended that she hadn't left him…she was just refusing his offer of marriage. She was refusing him, not because she didn't love him (she had assured him she had never loved him to begin with) but because she had received a better offer.

Some fancy businessman from New York City had come to town and made her family an offer they could not refuse.

New York.

Finn snorted. What good thing had ever come out of that God-forsaken place?

Giving his horse a gentle pat and assuring it could reach the water trough, Finn readjusted his hat and walked purposefully towards Schue's Saloon. It was a Saturday night, and contrary to his usual habit of calling upon the delightful Miss Fabray and courting her as he had been for months now, Finn found himself alone.

Utterly alone, in a foul mood and looking for trouble.

He was fairly certain, from what he remembered, he might find some here.

He wondered if that fine Miss Santana was still…available for company to the highest bidder. Finn wasn't one to frequent whores, but a man had needs. Needs that the lovely Miss Fabray would have been horrified to learn of, let alone to satisfy.

It had been long months since Finn had received any female attention, as he felt it only proper to keep himself as chaste as it was possible for a man of twenty-eight to be, when courting the woman he wanted as a bride.

As he sauntered easily toward the saloon doors, his long-legged gait casual and unhurried, his ears became attuned to the sounds drifting from Schue's place.

He frowned slightly as the melody softly floating to his ears didn't sound like the kind of raucous tune Miss Santana would need to kick up her heels and show off her bloomers.

Pushing his way through the doors, Finn froze in his tracks.

There was an angel on the stage.

Deep brown eyes, soulful beyond their years, stared out over the crowd. Her hair gleamed in the bright lights the lamps threw over the stage. Her skin was milky and clear, and slightly flushed no doubt from the heat of both the heavy air and the rapt focus of all the male patrons. Her lush figure was clad in a beautiful emerald green gown that while not immodest, certainly more than hinted at the curves that lie below.

Finn gulped, stunned in the face of such beauty.

And then she began to sing.

It was if every tiny speck of his body and soul longed to reach out for her. Thoughts of Miss Santana disappeared. Thoughts of drinking disappeared. All thoughts disappeared altogether from Finn's mind as he allowed himself to be carried away on the wave of sensation her rich voice created in him.

"She's amazing, isn't she?" Finn started slightly at the soft sound of Schue's voice in his ear. If he had allowed Will Schuester to get the drop on him, he was surely slipping.

"Amazing," Finn parroted back, lacking the coherence to find other words.

"Her name's Rachel," Schue continued quietly, leading the way back to the bar, "she came here from New York City."

Finn felt a twinge of anger at the mention of that dreaded city, but the angelic voice from the stage quickly soothed his savage heart.

"I don't know what the hell I did to merit such a gift to walk into this place," Shue sighed, "but she's making me a mint. Every night she sings, I get more men drifting in here. Like I hired a siren or something…they just wander in off the street. Men I haven't seen in forever."

"Speaking of which," Schue eyed him speculatively, "I haven't seen you in quite some time. I heard about Miss Fabray. Tough situation, man. Sorry to hear about it."

"Uh huh," Finn mumbled distractedly, staring at Miss Berry as she moved around the stage switching to a more upbeat tune.

"You want an introduction?" Schue said, hiding his smile.

"Huh? No, why would she want to talk to me?" Finn removed his hat and ran a hand through his tousled chestnut brown hair. "I'd just say something stupid…" Finn's voice trailed off as he noticed a commotion near the stage.

"What's going on over there?" Schue couldn't see over the crowd.

Finn could though, standing head and shoulders above most people in the bar.

That stupid idiot Karofsky had grabbed the beautiful singer off the stage, and was trying to lay a sloppy kiss on her.

Finn didn't remember moving. Later he would try to recall how he got from the bar to where Karofsky was mauling the petite brunette with such speed.

The next thing he knew, he was pounding his fist repeatedly into the moron's face, heedless of the crunching sounds emitted as bone crushed bone, and the whining, pleading voice as Karofsky begged for mercy.

He would never know if he might have killed the overgrown ass, because he felt a gentle hand on his arm stop his forward momentum cold.

As he dropped the now prone body of Karofsky to the floor, Finn turned slowly to stare into the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen.

"Thank you, Mr…" she trailed off, her luminous eyes lighting and a small smile tilting her lips.

"Finn," he managed to puff out, slightly winded from pounding on Karofsky, "Finn Hudson."

"Thank you Mr. Hudson. I'm Rachel Berry, and I'm greatly in your debt."

Staring into her innocent, upturned face, Finn felt something give in the vicinity of his heart and knew that things would never be the same.

A/N: So, what do you think? Any comments are sincerely appreciated.

~Karen