Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: I was going to update Saturday, and 2,000 words in, my computer crashed. So, it'll be a little now, and I'll update with a longer chapter before Friday. Read closely. ; )

Chapter 9

"Dr. Cullen?"

Edward stopped on the street and looked around. "Aye?"

Alice Brandon motioned toward him. He crossed the street and joined her on the veranda. "I've been wondering," she whispered, "Mr. Stein is doing so much better with those exercises you showed him. It seems remarkable. I was wondering…"

When her voice trailed off, he accepted the glass of sweet iced tea and sat in a wicker chair. He'd intentionally waited until he knew what she wanted. Ever since Mercy swooned in the mercantile almost a month ago, folk had tried to get him to speak about her. Some meant well, and others were looking for gossip. Either way, he refused to discuss any private matters. Since Miss Brandon wished to broach a different topic, he'd listen. "You were wondering?"

"Could I do the movements? Would they help me?"

He made no pretense at ignorance. She had a noticeable limp. "You were young when you broke your limb, weren't you?"

She nodded. "Doc wanted to amputate, but Papa wouldn't allow it."

"When you showed interest upon hearing about the therapy, I mad the assumption that you were hopeful something might benefit you, as well." Edward looked her in the eyes. He'd learned early in his career that patients inevitably coped better with bad news when given the dignity of a direct response.

"I took the liberty of examining the medical journal Doc Frazier kept. The problem is that your bones knit together in the wrong alignment. Motion exercises are for muscular problems, not skeletal. I'm sorry I canna make a difference for you."

"I suppose," she said, "I should be thankful for what I have."

He looked out into her garden, knowing she was uncomfortable with the topic now. "What happened? Just yesterday, your garden was filled with blossoms, and most are gone today."

"Jessica Stanley's wedding is tomorrow. You know what they say-a June bride is a bride all her life."

Edward lifted a shoulder. "To my way of thinking, 'tisn't when you marry, 'tis whom. Even so, it was kind of you to share your flowers with Miss Stanley."

"Thank you."

They exchanged a few more pleasantries, then Edward excused himself.

As he started down the steps, Jacob Black passed him. The exchanged nothing more than a nod, but Edward overheard him.

"Hello, Miss Brandon. Is your sister home?"

The rest of the afternoon passed with an assortment of cases. His last patients were from a couple towns over. Suspecting they, like Alice Brandon, were hoping for a miracle, Edward took extra time with them. In the end, all he could tell them were the sad truth.

"I'm sorry Mr. and Mrs. Crowley , but you'll not be having any children."

Mrs. sobbed while Mr. Crowley said quietly, "You're sure?"

"Aye."

Tyler Crowley sighed. "We were afraid of that. A doctor in Austin told us the same thing. We'd hoped he was wrong. Lauren and I talked about the chance, and we decided we'd adopt if it came down to it."

"If anything comes up, I'll keep you in mind."

After they'd gone, Edward let out a weary sigh in the quiet room.

"Black!" Grandfather's voice sounded startled through the open barn door. Bella set Stubby down in Freckle's box.

A minute later, Jacob and Grandfather made their way into the barn. Jacob caught sight of her and averted his gaze. He stood above her and cleared his throat. "Miss Swan, those are fine looking hounds."

Miss Swan? The man that was to have been her husband was addressing her as a stranger. She looked down at the wiggly balls of fur and nodded, "They are."

"Everyone knows that Freckle's pups would become good hunting dogs." He leaned down and picked up a brown male. "Every since the day you promised me one, I've been looking forward to claiming it."

Bella let out a gasp as memories washed over her. Using the puppies as an excuse to come over, Jacob asked her to marry him that afternoon. "More than one promise was made that day."

Jacob's head shot up. He looked at her finally, "So, is that what you want? For the sake of a promise you would marry a man who cannot bear to look at you? Who, every time he looks at you, remembers how he killed a man? You want me to raise the child of the man I killed?"

"What I want?" He voice rose. "Do you think I wanted any of this? To bear the shame, the pain, and to carry a child? No! I wanted a man who would love me regardless of what life brought and who would stand beside me in the bad times. You were right to break your promise to wed me, because you are not that kind of man."

"Isabella Mercy," Grandfather said softly.

Her eyes filled with tears. "I do not know whether my grandfather is calling my name or reminding me to treat you with mercy."

"This has been very hard for both of us," Jacob said.

She placed the puppies back in the box, "In three weeks the pups will be weaned. We will reserve that one for you."

She went into the house, opened the bottom drawer of her wardrobe, and pulled out a white bundle. Until now, she'd dared to hope that Jacob would overcome his upset and realize his love for her was stronger than what they had been through. He wouldn't.

She unfolded the gown she was to have worn on her wedding day. All of it wouldn't fit into the stove, so she cut it. Piece by piece, she burned it. As the last threads burned, Bella retied her apron strings. Her waist hadn't changed at all. In time, it would expand, but she didn't know when-and she didn't have anyone to ask. She'd never felt so alone.