Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are property of Stephenie Meyers. All story lines are property of me.
AN: Once you finish reading this chapter ... take a moment to see the pictures of Alice and Bella's dresses in my profile. (if you want that is)
Last chapter:
Charlie was thanking him as Bella drowsily shook herself awake. The stranger, stopping at the door frame, locked eyes with her. His eyes, the same green as the emerald fields around her home, burned into her. "I hope your arm heals well, Miss Swan," he wished her before sweeping out the door.
Gray light and cool wind seeped through the structure that the Swans called home. Years of impoverished life had left the building as malnourished as her inhabitants.
The thatch roof curled slightly in the middle where many a hand had pushed a tool through. Stead fast in their superstitious beliefs, the people of the peninsula had long adopted the custom of emptying their hands of metal implements or weapons before entering a home. Each was left above the door way, buried deep in the thick straw, packed watertight, that was used as roofing material. For, to bring an instrument of iron into the house was an immediate eviction notice to any member of the Fae who might reside within.
The weathered stone face of the house peered out to the farm lands in many spots where the white wash of paint had chipped and flaked away. The shed in the side yard had seen better days. A flock of bedraggled chickens pecked at the damp, dewy earth as a lonely goose squawked its way across the narrow path leading to the well worn front door.
The shrill honking of the goose ultimately woke Bella from the fretted sleep. She had tossed and turned throughout the night, shifting positions to find a comfortable nook to rest in. The mattress, which was made of clothing too damaged to wear and straw packing material stolen from the rubbish behind the Masen's store, did more to hinder her rest than help.
Charlie snored peacefully from his corner of their one-room home. Between them, a table and two chairs stood sentinel in the middle of the room. A third chair had been sacrificed years ago to the fire. Beneath the phantom seat, the tracks of the chair legs were still visible, worn deep into the flag staff floor with years of use.
In that missing chair, her mother, Renee had sat. Renee, so full of life, had been stolen from them before her time. Just thinking about the mother, whom she had never known, made Bella's heart ache.
Bella squeaked audibly when her tiny feet hit the freezing stones of the floor. It would stay at this temperature until the sun's rays struck the floor at midday. By the evening meal, the stones would be too warm to stand on. The fireplace, mere yards from Bella's bed, would warm them to such a temperature that her feet were likely to blister if she were not careful.
Bella loved the mornings when she dressed and washed, pretending she was a beautiful woman of Dublin, London, or even as far flung as the exotic Boston. In these moments to herself, she brushed her hair and dreamed of her future.
Dressed for the day, she would immediately head for the shed where the chickens slept off their meal from the previous night. Heavy with corn, each was nestled next to another scrawny feathered form. They huddled together, desperate for warmth against the chill March air.
Bound against her side, Bella found it difficult to work around her bandaged arm. She tried to hold the egg collection basket in her right arm as she reached under the warm bodies of the hens with her left. Once the basket was loaded less than a third of the way full, her arm ached with strain and jittered against the makeshift brace the stranger had fastened for her. She put the basket down on the floor and found it easier to maneuver around the coop.
Charlie was awoken when Bella quietly clicked the front door closed.
"Mehornin 'Ella" Charlie groaned from the corner, half yawning the sleep from his joints.
"What's that, Dad?" she asked placing ten of the eggs in a bowl on the table. The rest of the eggs remained in the basket and were stored for the time being on Bella's bed. They would be taken into town later in the day and sold or traded for other goods in the Masen's store. Emmett was good to give Bella a fair price.
"I said 'mornin' Bella'." He pulled his suspenders over his shoulders and slipping an off-white tunic over his muscular frame. "Did you sleep well?"
The grey bags under her eyes spoke for her. "No, huh? Well, the gentleman said if you were still stiff in a week that you should find a ride into Cork to see a more qualified doctor."
"He was a doctor, then?" Bella asked. She walked to Charlie's bed and picked up Tyler who slept in a ball of blankets. "Go get your breakfast," she instructed, placing the terrier outside the door. He snuffled indignantly at her before turning tail and trotting out to the chicken yard.
"Seems so," Charlie answered splashing water from the basin over his face.
Silence followed as Bella moved around the kitchen. When she was finished, Charlie sat at the table and surveyed his breakfast. Three fried eggs and an enormous slab of brown bread awaited him. He ate his portion greedily and pushed the plate to the middle of the table as Bella gingerly pushed her scrambled eggs around, taking a bite every now and again, hoping to assuage the ache in her shoulder.
"Well, I have to get to the blacksmith's. Mike threw a shoe, again. That donkey will be the death of me," Charlie announced, pulling on a heavy cable knit sweater. "Stay close to home today?"
"Nah, I'll be going into town to sell the eggs," Bella explained. Charlie nodded and departed, allowing the heavy wooden door to slam behind him.
Bella spent the remaining minutes before the sun finally crested the hills to wash the some of her father's dirtier shirts. Hanging them on the line that was strung between the side of the house and the shed, Bella watched the early morning birds twitter from bush to bush and take to the sky when Tyler rousted them from their hiding perches.
Grabbing Tyler's attention, Bella enticed him to follow her into town where she was planning to sell the excess eggs. The dog trotted behind her happily yipping at the dawning morning.
In town, Bella found the market bustling with activity, even at the early hour. She couldn't recall hearing the ringing of the Angelus but hoped that Emmett or Mr. Masen might be in store to receive her.
The door to shop held fast when she turned the handle and gave it a yank. Looking through the glass pane windows framed in oak woodwork, Bella saw that the shop was deserted and dark, devoid of its usual occupants. She chalked it up to the family's anxiety over Edward's homecoming.
Never having met the oldest of the Masen children, Bella looked forward to being formally introduced to him in the future. She wondered if he would be as kind and gentle as the larger than life Emmett or as energetic as the tiny Alice. Maybe he would have the same mirth filled blue eyes that the others had. Maybe he would be sullen and reclusive as many of the men who come back from theology training are.
And then, maybe she would never meet him.
Placing her basket by the door for the Masen's to find when the open the shop, Bella walked back down Main Street, glad of her day of respite. She walked down to the quay and passed the hurling pitch. A large stone church loomed before her, large and foreboding.
Approaching it with a diligent step, Bella bowed at the stone portcullis, touching her hand to the Holy Water. She quickly made the sign of the cross, asking for a blessing for her father, working the fields, and her mother, waiting for her in Heaven. Stepping into boxed pew, Bella knelt down, praying swiftly under her breath.
The Angelus rang and more patrons entered, filling the church to capacity. Bella was lost in her own world of prayer when a flick of a head caught her attention.
Seated in the front row of pews, directly next to the pulpit, knelt a young man. With a twist of his head, the light of the hanging candles glinted off his oddly colored hair. Like spun bronze, it shone. His perfect posture set him apart from the slumped denizens of the mass. His back was rigid, taut, as he genuflected before the priest, ready to receive his host.
Pushing the thoughts of the fair skinned newcomer out of her mind, Bella pondered her religious duties as she knew she should have been doing. She would not allow herself to become distracted by a man as Alice would on so many occasions.
But, the thoughts of the bronze hair flitted through her imagination as she prayed aloud. As the mass ended, Bella gathered up her shawl and stepped out of her pew looking to the altar where the lad stood, his back towards the congregation, speaking to the priest.
On the walk back toward the quay on the bank of the Fertha, Bella thought about her mother. She had been tempted by a dark haired stranger. Her father had enticed Renee to run away from her family and marry him. They had lived in the cottage at the foot of the Benetee Mountain for three years of married bliss before Bella had come into their lives.
It was on that night, in the hushed twilight of early September, that Bella was born and her mother's soul passed on.
Bella wanted so much more for herself. She wanted to travel to Dublin, maybe even to the continent, or to the Americas. But always, always, she wanted to return to her home, her Ireland, where the land greeted her with a smile and its lush green arms thrown open in welcome.
Sitting on the edge of the river, she kicked her legs back and forth for warmth. She wished she had set down out of range of the shadow of the massive boats moored at the dock. The sun would have warmed her tired bones.
Her shawl drooped from her shoulders. The missing weight alerted Bella to its absence and she made to turn and retrieve it. Before she could move, a strong hand was placing the thin shawl back around her.
"Emmett," she cried out. "Thank you," she finished with a blush. The young man was constantly doing kind things for her. She appreciated his friendly actions.
Bella's smile was reward enough for the man. Running his fingers through his curly, black hair, Emmett nervously shifted. "I brought your basket back."
The basket, thrust out for Bella. "You didn't need to. I would have come back later to get it," Bella said, reaching for the basket with her left arm. Emmett noticed and his face soured.
"What happened to your arm? Did Mike kick you? I heard he threw a shoe," Emmett asked.
An amusement filled laugh broke through the morning air. "No, nothing quite so dramatic," she answered. "I took a tumble on my way home last evening. As luck had it, a stranger passing knew a touch a medicine and was able to mend it as best he could."
"Does it hurt?" he asked in earnest.
"Not as bad as it could, I imagine. I've felt worse," she said, a devilish grin spreading across her face. "I've tasted Alice's cooking remember?"
"How could I forget?" Emmett laughed. Both had been sick for almost a week following Alice's attempt to bake a tart for Bella's fifteenth birthday.
When their laughter died down, Bella turned back to the boy. "Shouldn't you be at the store? Or possible, at home?"
"No," he answered, his tone bashful. "I didn't want to be in the house. Edward had returned. Momma is planning a dinner for the family."
His face finally broke into a boyish grin and he sat beside the slim girl. "Alice tried to climb out of the parlor window when Momma was calling through the house for her. She almost got away too," he said leaning back, resting his weight on his elbows. "…if her skirts hadn't gotten caught on the window sash."
Bella stared at Emmett for a moment, trying to imagine the figure of Alice slithering through the window to get her underskirts caught on a stray nail in the frame. Both teens burst into laughter at same time.
They continued to joke about poor Alice, forced to prepare the house for guests and cook in the Masen's cramped kitchen when they knew she would rather been with them, on the side of the slow moving Fertha, teasing each other and skipping stones.
As the noon bells tolled, Emmett stood promptly and held a hand for Bella. "Come with me to the store. Alice has a package for you. We got you a present in Dublin."
"Oh, Emmett. I can't accept your hospitality!" Bella spoke in frustration. She could not understand how the Masens, who made a good living at their store, were firm that she deserved presents.
"You can and you will. Consider it a late Christmas present. Plus, you have nothing to wear to dinner, this evening," he finished, a mischievous smirk half hidden as he turned away from her.
"A dress? You bought me a new dress?" Bella's excitement bubbled over.
She had been wearing the same three dresses since she left school, three years previous. Worn and faded, each was patched in different places where the fabric had finally given way. The tattered dress she wore about town this morning was especially bad, with a stain upon the skirt that reminded her of a summer cloud.
Emmett nodded and walked away towards the town proper. "Will you come tonight for dinner? Alice insists," he said, turning to face her. "I insist."
Bella smiled. Her two best friends could be counted on to include her in a family event such as the welcoming of the eldest son. She meant to tease Emmett but stopped when she caught a look of longing overcome his features, which were becoming more and more like his father's each day.
Staring out at the quay and the dock beyond, Emmett paused in his step. The two stood watching the ships bob in the current of the river that flowed to Dingle Bay and beyond to the Atlantic. "I'll make it to America, one day," he said. It was more than a simple statement; it was a proclamation that rang of truth.
Bella's hand paused on his shoulder, snapping the large boy from his revelry. "Ready to go back?" he asked. Bella nodded.
They walked back to the store in silence, coming upon the elder Edward Masen Sr. as he was preparing to eat his lunch beside the cash register.
"Is Alice available?" Bella asked.
"'Look to the heavens for there you will find your answers'," Mr. Masen quoted last Sunday's homily while pointing to the storage loft above the store. The space had doubled as a playhouse in the girls' youth and a hiding spot as of late.
Bella smiled. Alice was under the impression that her father was unaware of her hiding spot.
She scaled the rope ladder that Alice lowered when Bella called up to her. "Why are you up here?" she asked.
"Edward's party commandeered the front room and the dinning rooms. My options were to sit up here with my books or sit in my room and write letters to my uncle. Edward is Uncle's favorite. Not I. Therefore, it was here," she announced, putting her hands on her hips. "Now, I believe Emmett told you about your gift."
"Don't let her deny it, I did," Emmett yelled from the floor below.
"Quiet you!" Alice bellowed back.
Bella smiled at the familial interaction. Never having siblings, she relished the opportunity to watch Emmett and Alice together.
"Yes, he did," Bella answered Alice's former question. "I don't think it was necessary."
Alice strode to the back of the loft and took a brown wrapped parcel from under the eve. Returning to her tuffet next to Bella, Alice handed the girl the present.
Bella just looked at the parchment. Gifts were a novelty and given only in the singular on Christmas Eve. Her heart thumped in her chest.
"Please open it," Alice asked. "I'm just dying to see your reaction."
Bella gently pulled back the string holding the paper in place and tugged the package open. Gasping Bella dropped the entire bundle to the floor.
Within the folds of brown paper peeked a blue material so beautiful Bella had never dreamed fabric such as it was possible. It struck her that she had never had something so fine before.
Stepping back to the half opened present, she regained her composure enough to pull the material from the parchment with a shaking hand. A wonderful sapphire blue gown was held before her. The stitching was immaculate and ornate.
"Well, put it on," Alice insisted, watching Bella from her corner.
"But, I need a …" Bella began. Alice interrupted her handing the taller girl a hoop skirt and a crinoline slip.
Alice helped Bella shimmy out of her old dress, folding and putting it to the side. Bella stood still, holding her hands skyward, as Alice pulled a hoop skirt over her head. Thinking of what she must look like, Bella laughed.
"I look like a lamp shade, don't I?" she asked.
"A little," Alice chuckled. "Now, the slip."
The girls fussed with the slip before heaving on a whale bone corset. Alice pulled the strings, tugging them taut. Bella gasped as the breath was pushed from her lungs.
Finally, the small girl helped Bella reverently pull the dress on. Tight about the waist and full at the skirt, it was perfect. Alice's mouth hung open. "Does it look alright?" Bella asked, pressing her hands against the sheen of the gown to smooth it down.
"I'd say it does. Want to let Emmett have a look?" Alice asked with a twinkle in her eye. "He'll tell you the truth."
"He'll tell me what I want to hear."
"No, I won't," Emmett's voice called from below.
"I thought I told you not to eavesdrop," Alice shot back.
"If you came down here, I wouldn't have to. Can I see how it looks?" the boy called, shuffling around near the ladder, hoping to catch a glimpse of the girls.
A twittering of voices met his ears before Alice replied, hanging over the banister of the loft, "Bella consents, on the condition that you allow us free passage to come down the ladder."
Emmett's brow furrowed in confusion.
"Go in the back room. Modestly demands it! We can't have you staring at us while we act like monkey's climbing down this ladder."
They waited until Emmett's heavy step traveled to the back of the store. Alice came down first while Bella followed behind.
"All clear," Alice announced and her brother returned to her side. Never once did he take his eyes off Bella. "Now," she declared to her awestruck sibling, "wasn't the day we 'wasted walking around Dublin,' as you put it well worth the effort?"
Emmett nodded and gave the girls an earnest smile. A tinkling of bells called him to the front of the store where a patron called for three pounds of ground oats.
"Father will let you stay in my room until the dinner, I think," Alice said, ushering Bella through the back door way. Down a narrow passage that connected the Masen's general store to the home, the girls walked in silence, afraid to alert Mrs. Masen of their presence.
"If we can get upstairs, I can dress and we can make ourselves presentable for our most noble guest," Alice slurred her words sarcastically. Silent as a cat, Alice was able to elude her mother, slipping up the back stairway and into her room with her friend at her heals. They never saw a soul on their journey.
"If you would start the fire, I'll look for the curling barrels," Alice instructed Bella. In no time, the brunette had a modest fire going and Alice returned to her with a rod of iron that bore a hilt of wood.
"What's that?" Bella asked reaching for the iron which Alice had laid beside stone of the fireplace.
"A curling rod," she explained picking up the tool. "You heat it over the fire like this." Alice pushed the iron end of the implement into the warmth of the fire.
"Then, you take your hair and wrap it around the barrel." Alice lifted a pinch of Bella's brown hair and rolled it around the rod. "Now, we wait but a moment and then let it go."
The result was a tight tendril of curled brown hair that shone in the reflection of the fire. "It's marvelous!" Bella exclaimed. The two girls sat by the hearth and worked to curl Bella's entire mass of unruly mane. When they finished, Alice took a bag of hair pins from her vanity to pull back Bella's newly coifed hair.
Just as the sun began to set over the water, Alice declared, "I do believe I'm done."
Bella turned to face the mirror of Alice's vanity. Within its frame, the girl beheld a ghost. Every time she had insisted her father tell her about her mother, Bella imagined her to look like the girl who now stood before. The girl that she had become, she realized.
"Is that me?" she asked, touching the glass. The tight sleeves of her dress fit low on the shoulder helping the neckline to accentuate the delicate blush of Bella's throat. The elongated waist ended in a point, allowing the skirts to bounce into a bell shape.
Alice smiled from behind her, placing her hands on the older girl's waist. "Of course it is. Now, will you assist me with my garments? We've but an hour before dinner."
With that, Bella snapped back to her friend. She helped fit Alice into a similar dress as her own. Its pale yellow color was glorious next to the creamy skin of Alice's bosom. Necklaces were laid out and ranked for their merit.
Just finishing adorning Alice with her finery, the dinner bell was rung.
Bella stood to proceed down stairs and Alice laughed at her haste. "No, dear. We will make a fashionable entrance. We will wait for the next bell."
The girls amused themselves with talk of Edward's childhood at their uncle's estate outside of Dublin. A second bell was rung within the span of fifteen minutes, this one louder and more clipped in nature.
"That would be our cue," Alice announced and held the door for Bella. The girls descended through the dark hallway and stopped at the landing of the main stairs. Reaching for a table, Alice opened a drawer and produced matches to light a candle so they would not fall down the flight.
When they reached the main salon, Emmett stood waiting for the pair. His hair was sleeked back with grease, his curls threatening to revolt at any moment. "My sister?" he asked extending his arm to Alice.
Bella walked behind the pair. Mr. Masen stood in wait for his daughter's friend, offering his arm in the same fashion as Emmett.
Within the comfort of the room, Bella noticed a person standing in silhouette beside the fireplace. The dim light of the surrounding room coupled with the brightness of the fire made it difficult for her eyes to focus on the figure.
"Excuse me, Edward" Mr. Masen asked, clearing his throat. The figure by the fire did not stir. "May I present to you, our guest, Miss Isabella."
With his final words, Mr. Masen released Bella's arm to light a wicked lamp at his side. A rush of illumination fell on all the shadowy recesses and corners of the room.
The change in atmosphere caused the figure to turn to the girl, who waited for a response to her introduction. She froze when he moved, his decidedly bronze hair flashing in the glow of the fire. Staring back at her were the deep green pools that scorched in her memory.
Explanation of terms:
The Fae – basically faeries … easiest way to explain this. Look it up online if you want deeper explanations.
Hurling – a sport played in Ireland. The object of the game is for players to use a wooden axe-shaped stick called a hurley (in Irish a "camán", pronounced kam-awn), or a hurl, to hit a small ball called a sliotar (pronounced slitt-er) between the opponents' goalposts either over the crossbar for one point, or under the crossbar into a net guarded by a goalkeeper for one goal, which is equivalent to three points.
Quay - a landing place, esp. one of solid masonry, constructed along the edge of a body of water; wharf.
Places:
Cork – a large city. It was a major port city.