He didn't expect a long, sappy story, nor was he looking to play therapist. He just needed to understand why she was acting like a scared child. In all fairness this place was spooky, true, and he'd seen too much in his life for the few things they'd witnessed to properly freak him out.
The story of childhood anxiety made sense. Jefferson knew the classic horrors of her world, just as he would the Civil war, courtesy of the alternate memories that Regina had given him. As a parent who was very protective of his own child he didn't understand why Emma's foster parents would be so neglectful or inconsiderate to a young girl's fears. Then again, there were such things as horrible parents.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he nodded, understanding. Though he was unsure what he could do for her when clearly they were in the closest thing to a Land of Horror. "Okay. Well, I don't know much about ghosts or spirits or those scary movies, but. We're not without here. You've got your gun, now this book. I mean. What's worse than someone ripping your heart out? The shopkeeper seemed passive. If they really wanted to or could do something they probably would have."
They weren't alone. They didn't have much in the way of defense but two heads were better than one. If Grace were here the only thing he could do was comfort her with his presence and protection. Jefferson didn't think that'd work the same with Emma. "We've been here a couple of hours and we're still here, one step closer to home, right? Sure it's unorthodox and probably dangerous, but we didn't wake up in the woods and there was the book you needed. We got it. And even if there's no tailor shop I'll get what I need for the hat even if it means ripping those fugly drapes off of that unhinged hotel."