"Edward!" came a woman's voice. "Edward, what on Earth is taking so long! It's time for dinner!"

"Oh, Lucy," said Edward wistfully. "Mother's calling. I must leave you now. I'm sorry." Lucy sighed and opened her mouth, as if to speak, but Edward stroked her face to quiet her. "Hush, love. Mother mustn't find us together. You know they wouldn't approve of our meeting like this."

His voice carried all the painful implications of exactly how disapproving "they" would be if their relationship were discovered: the shock and outrage of their families, who would never approve of their love. The dirty looks the neighbors would send their way when they passed either of them in the street. The mandate to never again see each other. They might even go so far as to send Lucy away, and he knew he couldn't bear being separated from her for long.

Edward could see in her eyes that she understood. She always did. And Lord, her eyes… huge, trusting, innocent. Like peering into warm pools of liquid chocolate. What would he do without those beautiful eyes to look into at the end of the day? He didn't want to dwell on it.

"Tomorrow is Sunday, so we'll be going into the city to visit my grandparents. I won't be back in time to slip out and see you, so please don't wait up."

"Edward!"

"Coming, Mother!"

Edward sighed. Lucy gazed at him mournfully, and he bent to kiss her on the forehead. "Goodbye, my darling. You are the reason for my being - my everything. Never forget that." And with this parting, Edward fled, lest his mother come searching for him and find them together.

The last remnants of daylight still lingered in the sky when Edward snuck away to see Lucy on Monday evening, hoping to find her lingering about their usual meeting place even though he was early, imagining she was as eager to see him again as he was to see her.

She wasn't there.

"Edward?"

Edward jumped, then put on an easy smile. "Hello, Mr. Grant. I didn't see you there. How are you?"

Mr. Grant tossed another hay bale onto the stack and leaned on his pitchfork, wiping his forehead with a gloved hand. "Oh, reckon I can't complain. Just unloading this trailer before I turn in."

"Need any help, sir?"

"Naw, though it's good of you to offer. I'm just about done. What brings you here?"

"My mother is making preserves with the strawberries we got from Mr. Conner last weekend," lied Edward smoothly. "She wanted to know if she could set aside a few jars for Mrs. Grant and yourself."

"Oh? That'd be great. Tell your mother thank you very much." The man chuckled tiredly and speared another bale. "The week we've had, some of Elizabeth's famous preserves would be quite a morale booster."

"Was it a bad one?" Edward inquired politely.

"We've sure seen better, I'll tell you that. Just one thing after another. Between Nancy falling ill, some God-forsaken critter getting into the henhouse – killed at least three of them – and now what with Lucy gone-"

Edward's heart flipped. "Lucy gone?" he repeated. "Where is she?"

"Oh, the poor gal broke a leg yesterday morning. Nothing we could do. Had to put her down."

"What?" Edward croaked. He staggered backward, as if physically struck by the news. "No!"

"Yep. Cryin' shame, we'd not had her even four years-"

"What do you mean, you put her down?"

Mr. Grant scratched his neck. "Well, Edward, that's what you gotta do with a dairy cow hurt like that. Sounds harsh, I know, but it's the kindest thing you can do for them, really-"

Edward choked. "No! Nooo! Lucy!" he wailed. "How could you? How could you?" Sobbing, he sprinted from the barn, leaving the bewildered farmer behind him.

Mr. Grant stared after him a minute, then shook his head and forked another bale onto the pile. "Something not quite right with that boy," he muttered, and wondered if Elizabeth would still be sending over any of those preserves.

A/N: Inspired by a remark someone made: "Edward falling in love with Bella is like a normal person falling in love with a cheeseburger. What the hell!" Indeed it is, random Internet stranger. Indeed it is.