I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

Author's Note: The posting on this story won't be as frequent as the story that came before this one, "The Bigger They Are." I'll probably update once a week. More often if I'm having an easier time in school, but I've got pathology and clinicals, along with three other classes, this term so...yeah. We'll see. While you don't have to have read that one to understand this one, here are some bare facts if you haven't read it. Emmett is the son of Bella James, whose soldier husband died in the war. Emmett has three younger brothers – Seth, Sam, and Jake. "The Bigger They Are" is the story of Edward and Bella; they meet when Emmett does some property damage and has to work off the debt with Edward Cullen, also a soldier. Of course, love follows. This is the story of Emmett and his Rose.

The Art of Persistence

The art of love... is largely the art of persistence. ~Albert Ellis

Prologue:

Rosalie met him just a few weeks after she turned sixteen, that boy who would change her life.

It was a bad summer for her; her mother was dying (though it took forever for someone to actually say the words to her) and she had been shipped off to stay with her Uncle Jasper and his wife, Alice. Temporarily, of course, as her mother had assured her. But she had seen the truth in her mother's eyes.

Apparently, Rosalie had met Jasper before – once, when she was less than a year old. She wasn't sure either of them remembered the meeting. It hardly seemed basis enough to ask the man and his wife to take care of a teenaged girl, but her mother did. Perhaps because she was desperate; maybe because she just didn't care how much of an imposition it might prove to be. Or maybe, as Rose sometimes liked to think, because her mother knew what kind of people they were. Maybe her mother had seen her as something more than a burden after all.

Even years later, Rosalie was surprised that her uncle told her mother that they would take her in. Who wanted an extra kid when they already had three of their own? Especially when that kid is a surly teenager? Though, in truth, Rose did try very hard not to be surly. She was aware that she was an unexpected obligation.

Her Uncle Jasper and Aunt Alice took her in, though. They never seemed to be unhappy about it either. That had shocked her the most. Her mother put her on a plane, because Uncle Jasper had paid for the ticket, saying a girl on a bus was not safe. He had threatened to drive up and get her if her mother didn't buy the plane ticket. Her mother hadn't wanted them to see the conditions they were living in, and the ticket was purchased as promised. Her mother had waved good-bye on a summer day in the crowded terminal and told her to be good and not to make trouble. Rose might have laughed at that, because trouble was the last thing she wanted. She preferred to fly under the radar and stay in the shadows. No one bothered you there.

So Rosalie went to them with only one suitcase but tons of emotional baggage. She really didn't have any idea of what to expect from them. The young girl honestly expected to find that they had taken her on begrudgingly and that they would act accordingly. Like a lot of her mom's boyfriends had done over the years, she was certain that they would let her know she was a pain in the ass and only there because they knew she had no place else to go.

She expected anger, resentment, or even worse, pity. But not once did they ever make it seem like they weren't absolutely thrilled to have Rosalie there. Their children were younger than she was, but they weren't brats. Rose had always loved kids, so she actually kind of liked the idea of having them around. Rosalie had no siblings, older or younger, so it was a nice change.

Sarah and Sophie helped her unpack her belongings, never once saying anything about how little she owned. Though later that week, Aunt Alice handed Rosalie the car keys, a pre-paid Visa card and directions and asked if she would mind driving the kids to Target to pick out some clothes. Aunt Alice was "busy" and didn't have the time, she said.

As Rosalie was about to walk out the door, Alice just sort of threw it out there. "Oh and I didn't really know what you'd like so pick up a few things for your room while you're there. And since you probably had to pack light with all of those damned airline restrictions on baggage, pick up a few outfits. It'll help get the girls in the mood. They're notoriously picky about clothes." Then she just smiled brightly. "There's more than enough room on that card, so don't worry about spending too much." Rosalie had kept her pride, but she also got two new pairs of jeans and three blouses, not to mention a throw for her new bed. Sometimes you took what was offered, especially when it was offered so freely.

Still, as welcoming as her aunt and uncle were, and as much as she loved being with her cousins, Rosalie felt essentially alone. No one knew that she cried herself to sleep at night, or that she dreamt of the phone call that would bring the news that her mother had died.

No one spoke of her mother's impending death; in fact it seemed to her that they went out of their way to avoid saying anything about it. But she knew. In her heart she knew that her mother was dying and there was nothing that could be done.

So instead of praying that her mother would live, Rosalie dared to pray that God would allow her to stay where she was. For the first time in her young life, she felt a sense of security. There would be no new boyfriend with his head stuck in the refrigerator one morning. She would not have to wear ratty sweat pants and an old, thick robe just so that she wouldn't feel his eyes on her.

Her mother had been a beautiful woman, but she had lived a hard life. The years had left their toll on her mother. But Rosalie…she was fresh and beautiful and heartbreakingly young. The men's eyes rested and then wandered, and the young girl felt vulnerable even in her old robe and sweatpants. She wanted to live in a place where she didn't have to lock her bedroom door, or hide beneath layers of stifling clothes.

Most of all, she wanted to feel safe.

And that was what she prayed for that summer – to feel safe. And loved. She desperately wanted to feel loved. She wondered what that felt like, if it was as magical as the movies made it seem.

Living with her aunt and uncle gave Rosalie her first glimpse of what life must be like for some of the girls she had gone to school with. They probably didn't have to lock their bedrooms doors except to keep out annoying little brothers. If they wore an old robe it would be because they were sick with the flu or they had bad cramps, but never because a man old enough to be their father had looked at them with sick hunger in his eyes.

Life was better living with Uncle Jasper and Aunt Alice.

Then came the day that she had first seen him. He was younger than her by a little more than a year, but his eyes were old. She had seen in him a kindred soul, and though he thought she was ignoring him, she was exquisitely aware of his every move, his every breath. His name became her talisman, the light that beckoned to her through the darkness of her nightmares and fears.

Emmett James.

Emmett had lived through something terrible too. His father had died in the war but Emmett had survived that loss. He had not only survived, but he had come out the other side with his sweetness and generosity intact. If Rosalie had been particularly romantic, and she was though she didn't like to advertise that fact, she might have likened him to a knight. And she did. Sometimes if she closed her eyes she could see him charging in on a huge warhorse, his sword ready to defend those weaker than himself. Emmett was strong, but he was a nurturer too. She had only to see him with his younger brothers to know that. He had learned how to take care of those he loved, and when he loved, he loved deeply and forever.

His father had loved him and been a good father to him. How much more it must hurt to lose a parent who loves you than one who does not? So Rosalie turned to him for comfort. She borrowed his strength and made it her own. He guided her gently through the worst of it, and when the day came when Aunt Alice and Uncle Jasper gently told her that her mother had died, Rosalie was strong; she was prepared. But most importantly, she was loved.

Emmett had prepared her; he had supported her. But mostly, he had loved her. Emmett James was hers, one way or another. It was a long and winding road, but when it was right, it was right.

When she was an old woman, Rose would look back on her life in wonder. She was amazed that it had turned out so beautiful and fulfilling despite a rough start and that she had found such a true and imperfectly wonderful man to love.

But above all, she would marvel that he had always loved her back...just as she was.