All Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer!

Boston, Massachusetts.

June 30th, 1850.

BPOV

"When will you be back?" Father was going out to get wood for our home. He's only done it a couple of times. We always paid someone to do it all the other times, but there was no one this time. Father had to go out there with only an axe.

Alone.

Mother was out at the market with some of her friends. She's been gone for quite some time, so it's clear that they're all having a long chat about something while buying fruits and vegetables. I should have went with her.

"I should be back around dinner time. Your mother will be back soon, I'm sure. She said she wouldn't be long," he said while putting his boots on. He placed one of his calloused hands at the back of my head and pulled me toward him. He kissed my forehead. I closed my eyes while the lump formed in my throat.

What if he doesn't come back? Mother and I would be unprotected. We would be lost and broke. He noticed the worry in my eyes and on my face easily.

"You'll be fine, Isabella. Just go to your room and read. Don't open the door for anyone." I nodded my head while wringing my hands together in front of me. I've only been left alone a few times, but no more than two hours. My heart was racing and my palms were becoming sweaty.

Father reached back and grabbed the axe that leaned against the wall beside the front door. Just seeing it made me take a step back. Father chuckled as he rested his gentle brown eyes on me, his mustache twitching in amusement.

"It's all right. You're going to have to learn how to be alone sooner or later, honey. You're 17. You'll have a husband soon, and you'll be left alone when he goes off to work. Do you understand me?" He rested a hand on my cheek as I looked up at him. I nodded my head, but thinking about having a husband and leaving my parents made my stomach knot up.

I don't want that. I've never wanted that.

He gave me one last gentle look before turning around and opening the door. He paused and then looked back at me over his shoulder.

"Can you get the horses water, please? It's a scorcher today." I nodded. He nodded. He left.

I know I looked like a lost puppy as I stood alone and looked around. The ringing in my ears from the silence was terrible. I despised it. I took a deep breath in and let it out slowly through my nose. I'll be okay, I'll be okay. I repeated that through my head as I went out the back door to go to the horses. I needed to do anything to keep myself distracted.

Cinder and Comet both lifted their heads as I approached with two pails of water. Being brother and sister, they were always right beside each other, but Cinder was the first to take off toward me, leaving Comet standing there with grass and dirt spewed up into his face. I laughed as I poured the buckets of water into the big tin tub against the wooden fence.

"Hey, girl," I said as I reached up and rubbed my hand down her soft nose as she made it over to me. She made little sounds before lowering her head and drinking the water in big gulps. Seeing that reminded me of the sun beating down, and instantly I wanted to run back into the house and throw back some water.

"Your sister is just a big bully, isn't she, Comet?" I laughed out as he trotted over. He only started to drink the water once I removed my hand from his neck and face. Out of the two, he'd rather cuddle and be loved than do anything else. Only sometimes was it a burden. When we first got the two, it stopped him from eating and drinking. All he wanted was to be loved. We think his mother neglected him, but we couldn't be sure. I watched them until my thirst couldn't be ignored any more. I raised the bottom of my dress and bounded back toward the house.

Getting back in, I poured some water into a glass and didn't stop drinking until it was gone. If tomorrow was going to be like this, then I'm sure Father will have to bring the two back into the barn. I wouldn't want to stand out there all day. They do have shade from a few trees, but that wasn't going to help forever.

I spun the glass around on the counter as I started to think about horses in general. Beautiful and majestic. Always together and protecting one another...

I think I would give just about anything to be a horse. It would just be so much easier, you know?

Looking around once again, my heart dropped. When will Mother get home? What should I do while I wait? I read all of yesterday. I wasn't interested to do it again. My hand left the glass and it spun for a few seconds before settling.

I looked over to the grandfather clock. It was only just passed noon. All dishes were clean and put away except for the lonely glass on the counter. The house was clean thanks to Mother. I looked down at my slightly dirty dress. A smile crept onto my face.

Laundry it is, then.

I grabbed a tin tub from under the kitchen sink and set it on the kitchen table. I went out to get water, warmed it, and then poured it gently and carefully into the tin tub. I went into the closet down the narrow hallway and grabbed the washboard, scrubbing brushes, and grabbed the soap from the bathroom.

It didn't take as long as I wanted it to be.

Sitting in the parlor was all I could do after I was finished as I waited for Mother to come home. I crossed my legs and stared at the grandfather clock in the corner.

1:30...

I uncrossed my legs and crossed my arms. I huffed and then uncrossed my arms and crossed my legs once again.

2:15...

I looked out the window behind me while biting down on my nails. Mother should be home soon.

3:00...

I jumped up in surprise and excitement as the front door opened, and the rustle of paper bags reached my ears. I skittered around the corner and smiled brightly as Mother set the three bags down onto the floor. She straightened up and wiped a hand against her forehead. Some strands of hair were stuck to the sides of her face, which was very flushed and damp with sweat.

"Mother," I breathed. She looked at me and smiled. I grabbed two bags and almost skipped to the kitchen to start putting them away into the refrigerator.

"When did your Father leave?" She questioned as she walked in behind me with the last bag. She set it down on the table and rubbed one of her hands down my hair in a comforting manner.

"He left at 12:00. He said he should be back around dinner time." I put away the fruits and vegetables that she handed me.

"Speaking of dinner. What would you like?" She crumpled up the bags and threw them away in the waste basket.

"Pasta with some cooked carrots and peas?" It came out as a question. Father didn't exactly like to eat any healthy things. Mother chuckled and turned to me.

"I can make that. You chop the carrots, though. Your Father will just have to eat it or go to bed hungry tonight," she said with a nod of her head. That was a firm rule in the house. You eat what you're made, or you don't eat at all. I've had to endure it a couple times.

"So, what did you do here all alone?" She asked after a bit of silence. She poured herself some water before sitting down at the table. She reached up and let her hair down out of her bun, and the light brown locks tumbled down her back, almost reaching her waist. It must have been a relief after having it up in a tight bun. Mine was always down anyway, only putting some up at a time some days.

"I gave the horses water and then did the laundry. I just sat and waited for you to get home after that," I admitted quietly as I sat down across from her, brushing down my dress with my hands once I was seated comfortably.

"Did you hang the clothes out back to dry?"

I nodded my head, ending that short conversation.

Mother stared into my brown eyes with her hazel ones for quite some time after that. My eyebrows knitted together in question. My cheeks warmed as she continued to stare. She finally reached across the table and grabbed my hands into her slightly tanned ones. She looked upset.

"I'm sorry, Isabella," she whispered.

"For what?" I asked. Is she sorry for leaving? But she was just getting food...

"I'm sorry that you're like this. Suck a nervous person. Your Father and I should have left you alone a little more when you were younger and not fuss over you. You can't be afraid to be left alone at this age, sweetie." She frowned.

"But...I'll be staying he-"

"Isabella, when you're 18, that will be the perfect age to marry and start bearing children for your husband. You will live with him, and he will be at work everyday. You'll be left alone, and then soon you'll have to take care of the baby. It's hard work, and you do feel lonely. I felt the same way the first few months after you were born. You're Father had to work, so he wasn't there to help me raise you as much as I wanted, and as much as every Mother wants." I stared at her face, wide eyed and slightly scared now. Why would she tell me this? It somehow made me want a husband and children even less.

"Mother, I don't want to get married and have ch-" I pressed back into my seat as she flew up out of her seat and gripped my hands tightly. This was escalating quickly.

"You have to! Unless you want to be shunned by everyone. Do you want that, Isabella? Do you? There are plenty of nice young men in town. Handsome men, so you can have beautiful children. What's wrong with that?" Her voice was quickly becoming shrill. Her chest heaved as she dropped my hands and she placed one of her hands against her forehead. The other one went over her heart.

"Eric Yorkie started courting Angela Weber today," she stated while looking down at me and moving her hands down to rest on her hips. I swallowed thickly. I kind of wished she had stayed out longer now.

"What does that have to do with this?"

She took a deep breath and then sat back down while smoothing her dress out in the back and front. "That means that every other young woman in Boston around your age is now being courted, married, or already have children with their husband." I looked down at my lap. I didn't want to respond, because then this argument would just keep going. On and on.

"No one's asked Father to court me anyway," I mumbled. Even though I didn't want to get married and have children, that didn't mean it hurt any less that no man wanted me.

Mom was silent. I looked back up at her while she laced her fingers together and placed them on the table.

"Actually, there have been..." Now she didn't seem to want to talk.

"W-What?"

It was frustrating that she stopped talking now. She looked everywhere but at me. It took a while before she forced her eyes back to mine.

"Your Father knows that you don't want to marry and build a family, so he didn't tell you about some of the young men that have come up to him to ask if they could court you." It was now her turn to look down at her lap. I was just gaping like a fish.

"I thought you want all that to happen, though. Why didn't you tell me?" I reached for her interlocked hands and just placed my hands over them.

"Because your Father really didn't want me to. He sat me down and talked. He explained how much you really don't want that. And you're not ready for all of that. Not yet." She shook her head and looked back up at me. I felt horrible as the tears welled up in her eyes. "But you will be by your 18th birthday. You have to be, Isabella. I'll make sure of it. I want you to have a good life."

I shook my head. "I can have a good life! Without a husband and children!" I really was trying to convince her. She opened her mouth to respond.

We both jumped as the grandfather clock chimed four times. I placed my hands back in my lap as she composed herself and stood up, smoothing her dress down once again. The conversation was officially over. I wracked my brain for something to say before she could.

"Um...why don't you go have a bath and relax. I-I'll even go get the water," I stuttered before breezing out the door and to face the setting sun. It wasn't nearly as hot any more, but now there was a nice breeze that felt good against my face and through the hair. Cinder and Comet were laying together, enjoying the not so hot evening. That's what I should be doing.

I grabbed two pails and filled them up to the very top before taking them back as carefully as I could. Mother was gone by the time I got back into the kitchen. I heated up the water and just stared out the window to pass the time. I could hear her walking around upstairs. Clothes rustling and the floor creaking.

"Mother?" I called as I stood outside of the bathroom door. I heard some more rustling and then her walking toward the door.

"Just leave the water outside the door, honey. Thank you." I nodded even though she couldn't see me and set the pales down on either side of me before backing up and going back downstairs. I suppose I could start chopping some carrots for when Mother comes back down, hopefully calm and rejuvenated. I started right away. I glanced up to look out the window. It would be nice to go sit out on the porch with a cup of tea...

"Ow." I dropped the knife and yanked my finger away. The blood was quick to start running down my finger. It was natural now as I held my breath and looked away, thrusting my hand out and away from myself. This was a time that I wish Mother or Father were with me. I looked around for a rag, and I found a dark blue one hanging over the back of one of the chairs, drying off. I grabbed it quickly and slapped it down on my finger, wrapping it quickly and holding it to my chest. Just knowing that there was blood under the cloth made me want to cry and get my Mother down here.

The house being so silent, Mother easily heard me.

"Isabella? What happened?" I looked around, but it's not like that was going to fix my problem. The bandages were in the bathroom, though. Mother needed to relax as well. I took a deep, calming breath and let it out slowly, keeping my eyes closed a little too tightly.

"Uh, I'm okay, Mother. I just stubbed my toe, that's all!" I called back. I leaned back against the counter as I became light-headed. I needed to slow my breathing.

"Just be more careful!"

Yeah, I'll try, I thought as I went and sat down in one of the kitchen chairs. I just needed to work on not fainting.

I sat there the whole time until Mother went back to her room. I was somehow swift and quiet as I went up the stairs and to the bathroom without tripping over my dress or making too much noise. I opened the cupboard beside the toilet and pulled out the bandage wrap. I wrapped the white cotton around my finger quickly, not looking once. The pressure hurt as I secured it. All I know is that it wasn't deep enough to have to get stitches. Just thinking about that made me want to fall over.

I made my way back downstairs and continued on with the cutting, I just wasn't able to bend my finger when I needed to. I also didn't look away as I chopped a lot slower. Mother came back down soon, her hair straight and damp against her back. She gasped as she looked me over.

"I thought you said you stubbed your toe," she fussed as she rushed over and took the knife away from me. She lifted my hand and looked at my finger. I didn't even attempt to hide it or pull away. It would have just started another argument.

"I'm fine. It's not even deep, I promise," I stated. Even if I knew I had to get stitches, I don't think I would tell her. Stitches weren't my thing.

At all.

"Can we just make dinner? Father should be home soon." I really wanted her to forget about it. And I'm sure Father would love a cold drink and a good dinner after a long day of chopping down a tree. I gave her a pleading look. She sighed and tightened her lips into a line.

"All right. Just be careful next time?" She kissed my cheek and went to the pantry to get the pasta. I finished with the carrots and then went out and got half a pail of water to heat up.

It was all done just before 5:30, but Father had yet to walk through the door. I even set down some ice-cold water in front of his plate. He was going to need it badly after the day he's had. I'm surprised he didn't come back home to get a drink. I wish he had, though.

"You can start eating, dear. He'll be back any minute. I'm going to go wait for him outside." She picked up the tall glass filled to the top with ice-cold water and stepped out onto the front porch to wait for Father. I smoothed my dress at the back before sitting down. I picked up my fork and twirled the steaming pasta around it and put it in my mouth. It was so good. I was quick to shovel some carrots and peas onto the fork as well.

I took a sip of water as the grandfather clock indicated that it was now 6:00. Mother walked in, her face flushed again.

"It's still quite warm out. I hope your Father at least went into town to get a drink," she said as she set the glass down in front of his plate. She even took a little sip from it.

"I hope so to. I would have came home to have something to eat and drink a long time ago," I commented while I picked up my plate and started toward the sink. Mother stepped up to me and took it from my hands and went on to washing it for me.

"Thank you."

"No problem, sweetie."

7:00...

7:45...

8:15...

8:50...

"It's getting dark. Where is he?" Mother murmured to herself. She had stayed in the kitchen after she finished washing my plate. She just stood there and stared out the window, sometimes going out to stand on the porch. I had brought a book down from my room and sat in a kitchen chair, but I wasn't really reading it any more. I was too worried. Just like Mother.

"Perhaps he ran into some friends in town. He had to have gone to get something to at least drink." I looked up at Mother while she looked back at me. I know she was trying really hard to believe that, but it was obvious she just couldn't. She's a mother. She knows when something's wrong. I could read it in her eyes. My book lowered to the table.

Something was wrong.

She shook her head and took long strides toward the door. I hopped up out of my seat and jogged after her, grabbing her elbow and stopping her in her tracks. Now she was just being irrational.

"You can't go out there, Mother. It's dark and animals are lurking everywhere out there. Bears and cougars!" I gripped her elbow tighter in my grasp to get my point across. If she goes out there, she has nothing to protect herself with. You'd think we'd have a gun, but Father just has never gotten around to getting one. We've never been faced with danger before.

"I'll take one of the horses." Absolutely not!

"Mother, let's just wait a while longer!" I insisted. I wrapped my arm around hers and pulled her toward the parlor so she could sit down and compose herself for the second time that day.

"He said around dinner time, did he not?" Her eyes were wide. She looked like she was about to completely lose it and go insane. I swallowed down my own panic. I'm the one that always gets comforted and reassured. Now it was totally reversed.

I've become accustomed to it. This was a whole new thing to me. I wasn't enjoying it.

9:00...

That terrible ringing came back to my ears. Mother had calmed her breathing and was now leaning against me, almost falling asleep. She had tuckered herself out with how much stress this was putting on her. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and rubbed a hand up and down her bare arm.

"Mother?" I whispered. I looked down to where her head rested against my shoulder. Her eyes were gently closed and her breathing was evened out, but her eyebrows were scrunched together. I sighed before grabbing her head gently and standing up, lowering it slowly to the cushioned seat. She thankfully didn't wake up or move even a bit. I was about to grab the blanket off the back of the couch to lay over her, but stopped as the the front door rattled.

I screamed as the door burst open and bounced off the wall. Mother jumped up, almost falling off the couch. She instantly grabbed my hand and roughly pulled me down next to her. All I could think was we don't have any weapons and that we're going to get robbed or...die. I shook and cried. This has to be the worst day ever!

"Renee? Isabella?!" Oh, my gosh! Mother and I jumped up and raced around the corner. Mother didn't look happy. It was clear that she was going to give Father a piece of her mind, and I would be sent to my room while she yelled and screamed at him. All I wanted to do was run at him and hug him tight.

"Charles Swan, you are in so m-" Mother stopped abruptly, and I had to place my hands against her back to stop from running into her.

I stepped back and to the side, looking to where Father stood in the doorway, letting bugs and the cooler air come in behind him.

A man was standing slightly behind him. He was taller than Father even while hunched over. He was just a black form because he stood practically outside. It was obvious that he was in some deal of pain as he stepped up beside Father.

"Oh, Charles. Who's this?" Mother's voice went from enraged, to kind and friendly. She was so confusing. I furrowed my brows at the man. It was still too dark to really see him.

"Renee, I am so sorry." Father grabbed the man's arm and carefully pulled him into the house and closed the door behind them. "I ran into him before I could head home and he needed my help."

I gasped and my lips parted as the light finally allowed me to see him. His trousers were dirty, and his light brown button up shirt was just as bad, with rips and holes. I unconsciously stepped back and pressed my back into the wall. Mother had already rushed forward to help the man come inside some more.

My fingers fiddled together as I looked him over, following far behind as Father and Mother sat him down in one of the kitchen chairs. He looked terrible.

His hair had grass and leaves stuck in it. It was wild and crazy, dusty with dirt and who knows what else.

It was hard to look at his face.

His jaw was covered with stubble, but it was also beaten up really bad. His bottom lip was swollen and split, dried blood on it and down on his chin. He had a cut on his forehead which also had dried blood on it. His left eye was black and blue, only now starting to swell up. He also had a broken blood vessel by his iris. My stomach churned.

"I took him into town so he could eat and drink something. I couldn't just leave him out there after liked this, Renee." Mother dipped a clean rag into one of the pales that still had some water in it. Father stood behind the man while she cautiously approached him. "I know, Charles. It's fine," she whispered to him. She focused her attention back on the broken man before her.

"Is it all right if I get the blood off?" I watched curiously as the man swallowed and nodded his head.

"Please." His voice was rough and gravelly. It sent shivers up and down my spine, and I don't know if they were good or not.

Mother placed her hand under his chin and lifted his face and started to gently dab at the dried blood all over his face. His hands went down to his right knee and gripped it hard. His jaw tensed as he ground his teeth together.

Father finally looked up at me and smiled gently. He kissed the side of Mother's head and walked over to me, gripping my shoulders.

"Don't be afraid, Isabella. He may be a broken man, but that doesn't mean he's dangerous. He's good," he reassured me. I wasn't able to look up at him as I stared at the man in the chair. I barely heard what my Father said.

I wasn't scared of him. I was scared for him. Someone heartless had done this to him without any hesitation. This man was running and trying to survive at the same time. The next thought did make me nervous, though. He would have to stay with us until he recovered. We couldn't just clean him up and then kick him out. Mother nor Father would ever do or allow that.

I bit my lip. The man looked over at me. I pressed myself into Father's side. This man...had absolutely nothing in his eyes. No pain, which he was obviously in.

Devoid of all emotion.

A/N: Thank you to those who made it through this chapter, and thank you even more if you liked/loved it and reviewed. This is my first story, so I don't really know if this was even good or if it seemed rushed in a way. Let me know what you thought, and the second chapter will be up Monday! Thank you so much!