disclaimer: ownership of the Twilight series did not miraculously appear underneath my Christmas tree — it's still Stephenie's, not mine.

"I never will marry. I'll be no man's wife. I intend to stay single for the rest of my life"
—19th-century Irish ballad

~0~

the matchmaker

Columbus, Ohio; 1913

"I wish you and Will would quit making cow eyes at each other—

"—Cow eyes?"

I widened my eyes dramatically, opening and closing them slowly for effect. My voice jumped up an octave. "'Oh, William—'"

Red in the face, Addie countered, "If that's to be me you're imitatin'—"

"—And he's no better, not letting you do a single thing for yourself." I roughed my voice, sitting up taller on my stool in the barn. "'Adelaide, let me carry that for you. Adelaide, let me get that; it's too heavy. Adelaide, let me shine your shoes, rub your feet—'"

It ended on a rush of laughter as Addie picked up one of the feet in question and used it to push my stool out from under me. Our giggles echoed through the barn; the cows, used to our antics for the past four years, chewed complacently on the grass in their stalls.

"And you, love?" She came to stand over me, smirking imperiously. "Mooning about for days and days over that doctor of yours?"

It was my turn to blush. More than likely a shade of puce. "He isn't mine. He wasn't mine."

And no truer words had ever been spoken. I recalled with startling accuracy how we had bumped along in the wagon six weeks after my accident, my smile nearly cracking my face in half at the prospect of seeing Dr. Cullen once more.

"You know," Addie murmured under her breath, grinning slyly. "It might be that we could be breakin' something else of yours. An arm this time, maybe?"

When my face ran through several shades of color, I could only mutter, "Hush, you."

That nurse Harriet's eyes honed in on us the moment we stepped into the hospital. "If you're looking for Dr. Cullen, he's out."

"Out where?" Mother inquired. "Should we wait for him to return?"

"No." Harriet shuffled through the papers on her desk before handing a small piece of paper to Father. He read it over slowly and passed it to my mother's impatient fingers.

"Moved!" she exploded. Later, I would find it amusing that for all my parents had grumbled about Dr. Cullen at their first meeting, they seemed oddly put out by the contents of that note.

Determined to see for myself, I ignored the conversation between Harriet and my parents, neatly grabbing the note from the floor where it had fallen. The handwriting was so elegant and refined, there could be no doubt of who had penned the words.

Mr. and Mrs. Platt, it read. I regret to inform you that my mother has taken ill and she has requested to see me, possibly for the last time. Do excuse my absence. I leave you and your daughter in the very capable hands of Dr. Mitchell. Remind Miss Platt, if you will, that she would do well to exercise more caution in her next adventure. Regards, Carlisle Cullen.

Gone! GONE!

It didn't even register that Addie had taken the letter to look over it herself. "Where did he go?" I asked, my mouth opening against my will.

Harriet frowned looking affronted. "I don't see how that is any of your business, Miss." Because Mother and Father, too, were regarding me with similar expressions, I thought it wise not to pursue the subject any further.

Only… I hadn't even been able to say goodbye.

My eyes flashed quickly to the portion of the letter where he had called me by name. If I closed them, I could almost imagine the way his lips shifted open and closed as he murmured, "Miss Platt" in that slow way of his. I could almost see the knowing smile as he referred to my "adventure," more amused that reprimanding.

One side of me wanted to comprehend how he could have simply left after that connection we had shared. Another commented that, in all likelihood, it had all been in my mind.

Regardless, the sadness of his leaving descended heavily on my heart. Addie, surprisingly understanding, took my hand in hers as I bowed my head and let the silent tears fall.

"I just know it Esme," she'd said over and over. "He isn't gone, not really."

But the words had not made Dr. Cullen materialize, much as I may have wished them to. The stubborn side of me contended that I had never wanted a man before him, I would never want a man after him.

Yes, Dr. Cullen was a passing fantasy to be lived and loved only in my dreams every night like clockwork.

But Addie and Will… That was another situation entirely.

~0~

Oh, this was devious. I would surely pay the price for my interference, but something had to give. I could take no more of the wistful stares, the quick glances— William Dempsey and Adelaide Murphy would see the truth of one another's feelings if I had any say at all in the matter.

And, seeing as how they were my best friends in the entire world, I did.

Seated at Mother's desk, I studied the chicken-scratch of Addie's scrawl across the card she had given me for my eighteenth birthday. Then my gaze drifted over to Will's sure, deliberate writing in the Dempsey family Bible.

Possibilities.

It took me the better part of the afternoon to carefully construct the letters, checking and checking once more over the handwriting. Guilt at my actions threatened to imprint a scarlet letter on my forehead, but I pushed it aside.

Dearest Adelaide, Forgive me for being so bold, but I simply cannot hide it any longer…

William, I am truly hoping you'll not be thinking less of me after you read this…

Sometimes I even amazed myself. Those turtles would thank me someday. I was sure of it.

I folded both letters carefully, carrying them in either hand as I fairly skipped down the stairs in my excitement.

The voice froze me on the last step:

"And just where are you going in such a hurry?"

"Nowhere." I whipped the letters behind my back, smiling innocently under my father's skeptical stare. "I was just going to meet Will, is all."

Father rubbed a hand over his neck, as though what he intended to say stuck in his throat. "I don't know that I…approve of you seeing William on your own, Esme."

Approve?

"What with you being… being… that age now… People will start to talk if you start walking alone—"

Alone?

"—with men—"

What men? It was Will, for Heaven's sake. Will Dempsey, the boy who used to make pies out of mud and stick strange objects up his nose. The boy I had known practically my whole life.

"—It just isn't right," Father finished.

He had his legs planted apart, almost as if he was squaring off for a fight, like he was expecting me to squabble with him.

I'd done an awful lot of lying today, and I just knew it was going to catch up to me somehow. Nevertheless, I found myself saying, "But I'll be with Addie, too."

And Father had to concede that point. Not wanting to chance any possible rebuttal I rushed back upstairs before he could change his mind.

I decided to leave the letter to Addie on my bed, fearing that some twist of fate would trick me into giving Will the letter addressed to her in his handwriting. Not only would my entire plan fall to pieces, but I'd have an awful lot of explaining to do, as well.

And then I was running the whole mile to the Dempsey house, not caring that my boots were dusty beyond recognition or that the stitch in my side grew worse with each step. I was on a mission.

"Will!" I called unable to conceal my excitement. I called his name over and over from the moment I caught sight of him in the yard. He was splitting firewood outside his aunt and uncle's home, but dropped the axe and smiled when he saw me.

"Is something on fire?" he asked with a grin.

"No," I replied breathlessly. I held out the letter, smirking inwardly as he eyes it curiously. "Addie just told me to give this to you. She said it was important."

At the mention of her name, Will's face softened in the way it did that always let me know my theories about he and Addie weren't unfounded.

He dropped to sit on the stump of the tree. "She could have simply spoken to me…" he murmured almost to himself, still looking dubiously at the envelope.

Yes, Esme, she could have just spoken to him. "Well…" My mind fished desperately for a lie. "She said she'd just blunder it if she tried to say it all out loud. And she said she didn't have the courage to come here and give it to you herself."

"Oh." And yet he still wouldn't take the envelope! His face became apprehensive in my eyes, erasing all traces of happiness that had been there before. "Esme, you don't happen to know what's in that letter do you?"

Oh, do I. I shook my head. "Only one way to find out, Will," I said wagging the paper a little.

He took it with unsteady hands, gray eyes seeking mine in entreaty. I smiled encouragingly before starting the walk back up the hill to my house. I glanced back scrumptiously now and again to find him still seated with the letter unopened in his hands.

For the love of all things holy, I grumbled mentally. Just open it.

When he did (as I watched shamelessly from behind a tree), his eyes raked over it once in absolute shock and he stood with a little noise of disbelief. I just barely hid myself behind the trunk of my niche when he looked up sharply, as though looking for me and wanting me to explain.

And finally, taking my cue from the delighted whoop of laughter behind me, I sent myself on to deliver Addie's letter.

Too easy.

An hour later, I worked diligently in the mirror to press my face into more composed lines. Addie knew me better than anyone else in the world, and she'd see right through my ruse if I wasn't more careful about it. I offered my reflection what I hoped passed for an angelic smile and decided it was now or never.

Father frowned at me leaving in a hurry for the second time, but I could spare him no more than an apologetic glance.

I knocked on the door of the Murphy home, smiling fully when Addie's brother Brian answered. He was fourteen, four years younger than she and I, with the same bright mop of red hair, freckles, and dancing green eyes.

"Hello, Brian!" I chirped, feeling in good spirits about the possible outcome of my actions. "Can I talk to Addie?"

Brian smiled and pulled me inside. "Just a minute, Esme." His brogue wasn't as thick as his sister's, but just enough to make him irresistibly adorable in my eyes. "Would you mind if I show you the new piece I've been workin' on?"

The Murphys had saved for two years to get Brian the violin he had so desired after they'd left Ireland and his miniature one behind. Brian played the violin beautifully, never failing to bring tears to my eyes, but at this precise moment, I just didn't have the time.

"Brian—"

"Just a minute," he promised. Then he was leading me to a chair and asking me to stay put, he'd be right back.

He was. And admittedly, the tune was both poignant and moving, not that I had expected anything different. Brian's eyes always fell closed when he played something that glorious, like he felt the music in him as much as he wanted those around him to feel it.

"Brian," I gasped. "What is it called?"

He turned red, dropping the violin from his chin and already packing it into its case. "I'd rather not say." When I'm sure my face contorted into curiosity, he flushed redder and commented idly, "I don't actually think Addie's here. I think she said somethin' about goin' to see you—"

"What?" I looked at him sharply. "Why didn't you just say that in the first place?"

I didn't give him a chance to reply. I was out of the chair in and instant, flinging open the Murphys' front door once more to ran up the hill, wondering where on Earth Addie would think to look for me.

And then, all at once, I knew.

The fact that I'd fallen from the tree hadn't changed the fact that Will, Addie, and I still enjoyed its shade more than any other tree in the whole town — the Spot, we called it. I would always be drawn back to it, for reasons I could only attribute to the event that had led me to meet the man of my dreams. And that old maple was the exact place I would look for me if I was my best friend.

I was in the grove of trees, almost all the way to our Spot…

I stopped dead at the sight before me.

In the shade of the maple tree from which I had fallen only two years before, Will was bent over Addie, her porcelain face tilted back and her plaid cap askew so that her auburn tresses flowed freely down her back. His hands cupped her cheeks, her own gripping his forearms urgently…

…Their lips pressed together…

Limp fingers released the letter I had hoped Addie would think came from Will, not caring as it slipped out of my grasp and into a muddy rut in the trail.

How on Earth…?

Ridiculous. This had been my— Well, not this exactly. But I had known Addie and Will were destined to be together the first time they met when we were all fourteen, one of the only times Addie had ever been stunned speechless, and the first time I saw Will turn that shade of pink. I just knew it. Will had never been meant for me; it was the reason Father's implications had been so laughable.

But at the same time…

…What with you being that age now…

…being alone…with men…

…people will start to talk…

…it just isn't right…it just isn't right…it just isn't—

I took one step back, then another when I was satisfied that my legs would still hold me upright. I back-tracked until I was sure I was safely hidden under the foliage of another maple. Not that Addie or Will noticed my sudden arrival, in any case.

I felt like an intruder, a voyeur, when I heard Will's voice, husky and breathless, whisper, "I love you."

I could not stay here. I ran back home as fast as my legs could carry me, wondering at the sudden blur of confused tears in my eyes. Either unable or unwilling to deal with the salty tracks down my face, Father made no objection as I rushed by him and straight upstairs to my room.

By the time I made it upstairs, I realized the reason behind my tears. I was… jealous?

Addie and Will were in together now and I was still just Esme. I practically threw myself before my looking glass, anticipating the years of having no one to look at me the way they looked at each other stare back at me.

But looking at my reflection, I was not at all upset by what I saw.

I had waited so long for that moment to happen, I had crossed my fingers, said thousands of prayers in that regard, and now that it happened, I was… Being stupid, that's what I was doing. I was Esme, I would be Esme no matter what happened. I shouldn't let my own personal anxieties of loneliness tell me otherwise.

Half an hour later, my eyes were still red-rimmed despite my attempts to make it appear as if nothing had happened. I blamed genetics for this pale skin that showed off the slightest upset in my emotions. I suppose seeing me alone on my bed with a blotchy face tipped off Addie when she stormed up the steps.

"Esme," Addie cried rushed to me. "What's the matter? Who was it?" She rolled up she sleeves, scowling. "Whoever it was, they're goin' ta get a lesson they won't soon forget, courtesy of Adelaide Eileen Murphy."

"Nothing," I giggled. "I stubbed my toe."

Addie smacked my bedpost for good measure, giggling with me, and then looked at me with… was that uncertainty in her expression?

"Esme, I have somethin' ta tell you, but you have to promise me you won't be gettin' angry about it."

I held my right hand up solemnly. "Promise."

"Well, this afternoon, the strangest….most wonderful thing happened."

I held my breath, expecting that rush of hurt to return as she told me the story. And, I was oddly pleased to find that it didn't.

"William came and found me at the Spot and he was lookin' happier than I'd ever been seein' him and I asked him if he'd won the lottery or somethin' of that nature, and he told me he felt like he had. And then he… Oh, he pulled me to him and swung me around like I didn't weigh a thing and he asked me if I meant what I wrote. And, Esme, I hadn't the faintest idea what he was talkin' about and I tried to ask him, but I was afraid he might let me go… And, come to think, I still haven't the foggiest—"

"Addie."

"Right, right. And so I just nodded 'cause I was too dazzled to do anythin' else, Esme. And then he was… kissin' me. And, Esme, it was amazin'!" She leapt off my bed to spin in a quick circle making her hat fly into a corner. Then she clasped linked hands to her chest, her heart. "And he… he… told me he loves me."

I know. I almost said the words aloud, then nearly chewed my tongue off to hold them in. This was Addie's moment. Her time.

"You were right the whole time, Esme." That's what I loved hearing. "I do love William. I always have. Please don't be mad."

"Mad?" I gaped. "Addie, I haven't been badgering you two to get a move on for nothing."

I stood to hug her and feeling her tense against me, drew her back. "Is there more?" Tears swam up into her eyes. "Addie! Addie, what happened?"

"Esme." The tears that had threatened to fall did so at that moment and Addie smiled tremulously. "William asked me to marry him."

There was a beat of absolute silence.

I shrieked, nearly tackling her in an embrace as an endless stream of tears and laughter flowed from us both. We danced a convoluted sort of waltz about my bedroom — knocking books off of their shelves, crashing into the post of my bed, finally collapsing on the floor with mutual groans at the discomfort that melted into more delighted giggles.

"How? When? Where?" I demanded sitting up.

"One at a time, then, goose." She took a deep breath, sighing it out slowly. "He told me he had something to be showin' me and he pulled me up to the top of the hill, and I could see ev'rythin' and it was so glorious and it reminded me so much of Ireland…" Addie had closed her eyes though the pleased smile still played about her lips. "And I told him so, I did. And he told me that there weren't nothin' in this world that could compare to this sight. But when I looked at him, he wasn't even lookin' at the view. He was lookin' at me. And I felt like if 'tweren't for his hand holdin' onto mine, I might just float away. And then he kneeled down and I, like a bludgerin' idiot, told him he would muddy his breeches if he kept that up and he smiled and told me he loved me again. And that he wanted to marry me."

There was nothing but sheer bliss in her expression, the freckled face I knew so well glowing from the inside out.

With a wry smile, I murmured, "I take it you want me to guess what you told him."

"Why, 'yes,' of course!" Mischievous green eyes widened at me. "I may have been a bit stuffyheaded at the moment, but I'm no fool. Then he pulled me all the way to his house so he could get the ring. Oh, Esme, his Mama's ring."

I seized her left hand, the one where a sapphire gleamed brightly on the fourth finger, and dropped a kiss onto its smooth inside. "I'm so happy for you, Addie. Truly." When more moisture clouded her eyes, I laughed, "Now, none of that. Tell me, when is it you're getting married?"

"We aren't yet sure. William still has to be askin' me Da, but Da's always liked William since he took Brian under his wing. And he wants to save a bit more money up so his aunt and uncle won't be breakin' their backs to help us. But by the end of the year, he said. And then I'll be Mrs. William Dempsey."

"Am I attending this wedding?"

"Absolutely!" Addie almost shouted it in her excitement. "It won't be such a grand affair, but oh, Esme, say you'll be you maid of honor?"

I pretended to think on it, giggling when her face fell. "As if you even have to ask, silly."

~0~

No one had had the heart to mention to the blushing bride that her dream wedding in the middle of November would be buried in the snow.

And so Will and Addie were married on the first day of winter outdoors in the shade of the maple tree that had become so very dear to them. I stood, shivering good-naturedly amongst the priest and our families, not even caring that the tendrils of hair Addie's mother had pinned up so carefully were now falling into my eyes as the slush from the tree attacked them.

Addie was absolutely stunning. She'd worn her mother's dress with a few alterations here and there. Will's Aunt Marilyn, Mrs. Murphy, my mother and I had slaved to make the white dress almost impervious to the elements, and even now, hours since she'd put it on, it still looked amazing.

Will stood with both of his hands clasping hers, looking all the part of the dashing groom in his best suit, coattails and all.

I grinned through the entire ceremony. Long gone was the anxiety I had felt first seeing them together. Now it was all I could do to stop myself from taking credit for the whole thing.

"William, you may kiss your bride."

I held back a laugh as Brian, the best man, winced when Will pecked Addie's lips.

"May I present to you Mr. And Mrs. William Dempsey!" the priest intoned shutting his book with a clap.

And then it was all over. Or just beginning, as I liked to look at it.

The strains of giddy music, courtesy of a well-played violin and piano duet, coursed through the barn. It was difficult to remember Addie saying something about this not becoming a large affair, not when we had a fair majority of the town crammed inside the Dempsey's barn (the largest one in our area). Their cows and horses would hunker down with ours for the night; a good thing, too, as I didn't see this celebration ending anytime soon.

I'd been pinched and patted by any number of people I wasn't actually acquainted with, but each time I saw Addie and Will whirl by (they had yet to let go of one another since the dancing began), I found myself unable to muster up the will to be annoyed.

I was, however, agitated that Addie had managed to convince me to wear a corset in this dress ("Me mum's beggin' that I wear the one she wore at her weddin,' and if I have to suffer, as God as my witness, you'll be sufferin' with me!"). I felt out of breath merely walking the expanse of the barn to the table where Mrs. Dempsey, Mrs. Murphy, Mother, and I had set up a rather impressive spread of food.

Ridiculous corset. Why not just squeeze the life right out of me? Ah, and there were Will and Addie again to remind me why I had gone through all of this trouble.

Just then, I saw a flash of gold hair hovering high above all the others.

My breathing quickened, then sent my heart pounding evenfaster as the vice grip around my ribs refused to give.

Could it be? Here?

The two years had not in any way damaged my idol worship of Dr. Carlisle Cullen, nor had the deterrence from that nurse, Harriet, who claimed he had moved further north. Nor had the constant reminder that he was fourteen years my senior, or that I was deluding myself if I thought that wonderful man would ever look twice at me if I did not require medical attention.

I stumbled forward, eyes searching for the person who I had already lost in the crowd. He was gone. Or perhaps he'd never even been here.

Disappointment was like a physical blow.

I didn't hear her come up behind me, but knew the high voice when it sounded. "It'll soon be your turn," Mother said, eyes bright.

My stomach clenched at the thought, but I kept my words light. "We'll see, I guess."

Marriage was all well and good for some. For most, actually. But not for me. I could not put my finger on exactly why — maybe because for all the fluttery feelings I could see between Addie and Will, and the deeper stirrings of something amazing in my stomach at the mere thought of a certain blonde-haired doctor — I could not imagine this happy ending for me.

Even as I panicked a bit at the notion of trying to explain this concept to anyone but Addie or Will, I comforted myself with the fact that it would not be the first time I rebelled against the idea of normality.

My half-hearted reply seemed to satisfy Mother, for she strolled away. I watched as she coerced my father onto his feet and was placing his hand at her waist.

A smile blossomed on my face. For all their issues over the years, I supposed they, too, were alright together.

"Esme?"

I whirled around gaily, smiling even wider when I saw my favorite fourteen-year-old fidgeting nervously. "Oh, Brian, you look so handsome! Was that you playing the fiddle a moment ago?"

He flushed. "Thank you. And yes." His eyes shifted to his feet, strapped into the shiny shoes Will had bought him for the occasion. "May I— I mean, would you mind…maybe—" He ended awkwardly, casting a glance at the other couples swaying to the lively music on the floor.

"Brian," I began feeling my heart expand at his hopeful look, "would you honor me with a dance?"

"Would I!" he exclaimed tugging my hand excitedly.

I spent the remainder of the evening spinning circles around in the barn with a curly red head that reached only my shoulders, watching the love that emanated from Addie and Will. We exchanged partners over and over until I was dizzy. When Brian once more took my hand and clamored to me about nothing and everything, something about how Marianne (a girl who had actively pursued him all year) had stepped on his feet the entire time they'd danced, I laughed out loud, unable to hold it in.

I was happy.

~0~

Columbus, Ohio; 1916

I hopped out of bed, dropping a quick kiss on my mother's cheek as I skipped outside to collect eggs for breakfast. As always, I swung the basket as I walked, whistling a nonsensical tune, planning to stop by the little house Addie and Will had shared for closing on three years as I did each morning.

The blue door was not locked, as usual, and let myself in, shutting the door at my back.

The radio was turned on on the Dempseys' kitchen counter, the announcer speaking drearily about the War. It was a constant presence in our lives these days, and we were all feeling its effects. The corset Addie had worn in her wedding, the one I had borrowed from Will's aunt, much of the silverware and anything and everything that could possibly be help to the American soldiers had been demanded by the government in every single town in the country.

Will had worried over and over that the war would reach its hand across the sea and pull us into the fray as well. And right he was, for after the sinking of the Lusitania last year, our men were dying of mustard gas in those stinking trenches, many of them never seeing one of the scant number of our doctors stationed in Europe…

"Addie!" There was no sign of her in the kitchen, nor in the sitting room. "Addie! Addie?"

I felt no qualm opening the door to the bedroom, sure that at this point in the day, Will was down at the factory making bullets for our boys overseas.

"Addie?"

The lump beneath the sheets in the bedroom groaned something unintelligible.

"You can't still be sleeping at this hour," I laughed exasperatedly. "It's time to get up, sleepyhead." I went to rip back the covers, then saw the state of Addie's normally rich red hair. It was lank and limp, though it seemed to have pulled all the color out her face judging by the grayness of her complexion.

When she spoke, her voice was so raspy, I felt fright close a hand over my heart. "I'm not feelin' myself, Esme. I'm no company this morning.'"

Concerned, I laid a palm against her forehead. "Was it something you ate?"

"Haven't been able to eat anything a'tall," Addie murmured miserably. "Don't be mentionin' it to William. He'll just worry for no reason at all."

"Addie…"

"No sense in him worryin' when there isn't a thing he can do," she snapped. She must have seen the surprise in my stare, for her hardened face crumbled and she began to weep. "I'm sorry! I don't know what's the matter with me!"

"Shush," I murmured.

I tucked the covers around her as she continued to sniffle brokenly. "I love you as my sister, Esme."

"I love you, too, Addie. Rest, now, and you'll be alright." I pressed a kiss to her forehead, hoping my words would travel to God's ears.

I shut the door quietly behind me. My worry for Addie's well-being convinced me to finish my chores quickly and come back to be with her, maybe try something on the stove to ease her stomach since that seemed to be what was troubling her.

Brian was in the sitting room, stoking the fire when I tiptoed back to the front of the house. He had grown in the past years: his bright red hair had faded into a dusky auburn, his lanky form had lengthened and broadened so that he was much taller than I. He smiled, pure joy alighting his face as he saw me, and I recalled the boy who had been so timid in asking me to dance at his sister's wedding.

"Esme! I haven't seen you in such a time!"

I laughed at his eagerness, then shushed him, pointing a single finger in the direction of Addie's bedroom. "Only a week, Brian. Surely not so much has happened in that time?"

"Well, no," he admitted more quietly.

"And should you not be up in the city making magic with those fingers of yours?"

He glanced down at the fingers in question, as spotted with freckles as his sister's, flexing them absently. "I would, to be sure, but Will asked me to linger a bit here with Addie as she's not been feelin' well." His dimple winked. "But, by Finn, had I known you'd be comin' 'round I would have been here sooner."

Brian's charm was irresistible. "Sweet-talker," I chided. "All the little city hearts flutter. Speaking of which, is there any little chickadee who's caught your eye?" I swung my basket back over my arm, and opened the front door. Brian followed me out into the sunshine, but he was quiet for so long I turned to him, smirking. "Ah. So there is, is there?"

He reddened adorably. "Aye."

A-ha! I just had a feel for those couples destined to be together — I'd managed to pull Addie and Will together, hadn't I? — and I was feeling something in my bones about Brian as well. "Is she pretty, then?"

"Beautiful," he corrected.

"And she has more than just fluff rolling around in her head?"

"She's brilliant. Smarter than any woman I've ever known."

He was already head-over-heels for this girl. I was briefly frustrated that she couldn't see it just by looking at his face. But then, some had to be nudged, others pushed.

"Have you told her how you feel?"

"I'm not so great at that part," Brian muttered.

I sighed inwardly. He was too much like Will in that regard.

"Oh? Well, you've just got to convince her she can't live without you, Brian." I looped my arm through his when he offered it. "If she knows you at all, it won't be difficult to do."

Skepticism touched his features when he looked down at me. "Mm-hmm."

"I mean it! Tell you what, how about I sit down with her sometime and we can just let the conversation travel wherever it will: the weather, her family, what a catch you'd be…"

"Esme…" he started suddenly.

"You're too modest," I grinned. "My favorite red-head." I reached up to ruffle his hair as I always had, pouting a bit when I realized I could no longer reach. "Who gave you permission to grown up?" I demanded.

He rolled his eyes and ducked his head compliantly. He permitted me to run my hand over his head once before we arrived at the hencoop. "You'd better go and make sure your sister tries to eat something. And if she fights you, don't take no for an answer."

Brian shuddered. "She's been impossible lately. I fix her up some soup like she'll be askin' me to, then she decides she doesn't want it. Then when I drink it — because I'm not wastin' perfectly good soup when it's right there — she starts cryin' and screamin' about how I never think of anyone but myself."

I frowned. "She never—"

"—acts that way when you're around? Aye, I figured as much. But you ask Will. He'll tell you right."

I set to pondering this new evidence. But Brian had to go and I had chores to finish, breakfast to make for my father, and before too much longer, he was walking back the way we'd come.

"Goodbye, Brian!" I waved a hand enthusiastically. "I'll see if I can make a visit to meet your lady-love."

He looked at me for a moment more, stopping completely, almost as if he wished to say something, then smiled and returned the wave.

The first day of spring, when the frost had all but melted away and I could see the little yellow blossoms peeping up through the frozen ground, always put me in a serene mood. The chickens eyed me distrustfully as I spread the seed, but gave way to their hunger eventually and abandoned their eggs as always.

My basket full, I started up the trail to the house, surprised to see a man I didn't recognize walking in the opposite direction toward me.

The stranger adjusted his hat, striding stiffly past me on the walk, ignoring my bright, "Good morning." Shrugging, I thought nothing more of it.

Father was reading over a piece of paper at the dining room table, smiling vaguely when I danced in swinging my basket. "Fresh eggs," I said cheerfully.

"Scrambled, please," he murmured.

"As if there's any other way," I chimed. I set to greasing the pan, humming idly to the hypnotic tap tap tap of Father's boot against the floor.

"You're in a mood," he said, still not looking up.

I hummed a bit louder, cracking an egg into the pan and smiling at its satisfying sizzle. "I might even make some for myself. Oh! And for Addie, too. Eggs should be easy on her stomach."

"She's sick?"

"A little under the weather," I replied. "Will has Brian staying with her to keep her company."

We remained in comfortable silence (beside the crackling of the eggs on the stove) before a thought occurred to me.

"Father," I commented in an offhand way. "That man on the walk. Did he need something from us?"

Father did not reply right away. The silence stretched on for so long, I turned from the stove where the eggs were in all likelihood burning to a crisp. "Father?" I queried more softly.

I watched him steel himself, sitting taller and making his face emotionless the way I'd seen him do after one of our cows had died.

"That was Charles Evenson. Me and his father were friends a while ago. Garrett Evenson lent me some of the money to buy the farm."

I nodded, somewhat uncomprehendingly. Nice as it was to have a name to put to the face — although, now that I recalled, that face had seemed more than a touch…unfriendly — Father still had not answered my question.

"So…" I prompted gently ignoring the stink of the burnt eggs.

This time Father could not look me in the face. He dropped his gaze, his shoulders sagging a little.

"Charles Evenson asked for your hand in marriage, Esme. And I accepted."

A/N: Wow. This is a lot longer than I anticipated it being when I started to revise a few things. I don't think you all mind, but if the length if bothersome, I'll be happy to cut them down a bit; I'll just have to…recalculate a bit and figure out where I should cut off the next chapters.

But anyway, I liked writing Esme's life before things start to take a turn for the worst, which, now that you've "met" Charles, they do. I'm always happy to send out a preview of the next chapter to anyone who asks. Leave me a review, if you will; they're much appreciated! Love, Cricket :D