Thank you, Pfachgirl and tedmynameisfred, for your amazing reviews! Sorry this chapter is really short; I'll update soon.

ENJOY.

-Scarlet


Chapter 11: First Day of Spring – Part Two

March 21st 1814, just after sunset

Hoquiam, Oregon Country

Mister Stockton made an announcement to begin the festival, and a lively trio of violinist struck up a song for dancers. Nearly every person in Hoquiam had showed up for the merriment, and the crowd in front of the post office buzzed with conversation and laughter. Caleb and I mingled through the gathering, chatting with people that stopped us on our way.

Many men clapped Caleb on the shoulder when they looked at me, and many woman brushed my cheek when they looked at Caleb. Behind our backs, I heard people whisper things such as "About time!" and "What an excellent match!"

"Would you like to dance?" Caleb asked, after nearly half an hour.

I looked from the crowd of dancers to the crowd of non-dancers. Martha and Shamus two-stepped when they should have waltzed, and Martha giggled when they bumped into other couples. Mister Stockton pestered Misses Weaver to dance, and the Whittiers graced the floor with their elegant style. The Wilsons hung by the edge of the group, swaying while their daughter looked on in delight. The tavern-keeper danced with his quiet, second wife, and young Nathan Cummings wooed all the young ladies present.

My eyes memorized each of their movements.

"I have never danced," I informed my companion, smiling coyly.

"Have no fear; I have danced little, with no genuine success thus far." His blue eyes twinkled with excitement, and I had no choice but to accept.

I put on my best smile as we entered the flow of dancers. My good humor had been polluted when Carlisle broke his word. The very reason I'd accepted Caleb's invitation was because Carlisle had promised to attend. Though I enjoyed his company, being so close to Caleb put me in a very uncomfortable position. I had relied on Carlisle's presence to sustain me through the evening.

Caleb put his hand lightly on my waist, and held my left hand gently with the other. He was very much taller than me, so I rested my hand on his arm rather than his shoulder. He slowly took the lead, and I followed confidently.

"I thought you said that you hadn't danced before," he laughed, pleased with my form.

I glanced around at the other guests. "It's easy to take up once you've seen it, I suspect."

The pace of the waltz was too lively for conversation, so I did my best to forge a cheerful expression.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

"Did you enjoy your evening with Caleb, Cornelia?" Misses Weaver asked, sipping her tea.

I leaned back in my seat, and gazed out the dark windows of Misses Weaver's home. Martha had retired from the late hour, and Caleb had already bidden me goodnight. Millicent and I were reviewing the events of the evening over a soothing cup of tea. The rain had cut the festivities short after two hours, but it had been a success for Mister Stockton nonetheless.

My eyes watched the raindrops on the window as I responded. "Yes, I did." I took a sip from my teacup.

"Pardon me, Cornelia, but... did he say something to upset you? You seem distraught somehow...," she mused, holding her chin as she observed me.

I forced a quick smile, but Misses Weaver saw right through it. She gave me a heavy look, and I sighed. "I'm not upset by what he said... I am only... surprised."

"What did he say?" she asked gently.

I leaned forward on my elbows and hid my face in my hands. "He's asked to court me."

Misses Weaver gasped, and then began to laugh. "I knew you were meant for each other. What has your uncle said? Will you accept his courtship?"

I knew I could tell Millicent anything; she wasn't a rumormonger. Nevertheless, I felt my heart slip when I thought about Caleb's offer. He was kind and chivalrous, and would make a fine husband for any woman... but I wasn't just "any woman." I was something else entirely.

"I have not spoken with my uncle," I finally said. "I do plan to, before putting any more thought into the matter."

She laughed at my formal manner. "Picture it, my dear! Caleb would make you very happy."

"Yes," I said impassively. "Very happy..."

I bid Misses Weaver a good evening and borrowed an umbrella for the weather. Lightning struck in the distance as I passed the church, and my mind wondered to the past. I met Carlisle on a night much like this. I looked down the street, half-expecting to find a dark form walking toward me on the opposite side.

I lit the hearth in my room when I arrived, and took off my damp garments in order to let them dry. Caleb's human scent lingered on my dress, and I frowned at the memory, gazing at the gentle licks of fire in the hearth.

"Your uncle has given me his consent already, but he preferred me to speak with you."

"May I escort you to the festival tonight?"

"Cornelia... Radiant and charming as ever."

"...I know I haven't made my intentions quite clear to you."

"I have been foolish these past months."

"...I've never seen someone as dedicated as Doctor Cullen before."

I pulled on my boots before I spared the matter further thought, and laced them quickly in the light of the fire. I threw on my green dress from the past autumn, and secured my brown cloak around my shoulders. As always, I gently opened the window above my bed and jumped out into the rain. I didn't bother taking my hair down from its elegant arrangement.

The run was wet and cold; my clothes were saturated by the time I left town, and I was shivering when I entered the forest. My sharp sight helped me avoid obstacles such as trees and bushes in the dark woods. I rubbed the rain from my eyes when it clouded my vision.

I banged my fist on the oak door when I arrived, but he didn't answer quick enough. The doorknob compressed under my grip, and the lock shattered when I turned. I flung the door open and stepped inside, dripping all the way.

"Carlisle!" I shouted, stomping into the parlor.

Everything was dark; the room was empty. When I went to expand my search to the second level, I found him frozen at the top of the stairs.

"Cornelia," he greeted soullessly. "Is there trouble?"

"No," I said through my teeth, gripping the slippery wood of the handrail with my wet hand. I pulled myself onto the red carpet of the first step and glared up at him. "Why would there be trouble?" I insisted sardonically.

He blinked, and took two steps down. "May I be of any help?" he asked.

My temper flared. "You could have helped me earlier, but the time is now past."

"To what are you referring?" His gaze matched his tone: detached.

My voice wavered with my impatience. "Do not tease me, Carlisle. You know why I've come."

He descended the rest of the staircase slowly, until he was on the ground floor. Still standing on the first step, he and I were eye-level. "I'm sorry for deserting you, Cornelia. It was for the best."

My grasp splintered the handrail. "You are not forgiven. I must know the reason."

His jaw set, and his eyes were cold. "You will accept none of my excuses," he said .

"Try me," I challenged firmly.

"My self-restraint wasn't strong enough for the amount of humans congregating," he replied smoothly.

"Wrong," I hissed. "Your self-restraint would have been strong enough had they all sliced their wrists under your nose! Anything else?"

His patience thinned. "Why are you so severely upset over the matter, may I ask?"

"Because..." My words failed me. "Because..."

He continued to stare vacantly.

"Because I..." Tears pricked at the corner of my eyes. "I cannot love a human!" I thundered; my eyes were wide with rage.

His emotionless eyes flickered with compassion for half a moment. And, in that moment, I saw the intense conflict that raged behind his composure. "Then, do not," he said simply, and his voice was carefully controlled.

"Please, I beg you, at least bring yourself to care. I thought our relationship was made of sterner stuff than this!" I motioned between us, referring to the indifference that loomed.

"Certainly, the trouble must be that I care too much," he said grimly.

His words confused me, and I gleaned little or no comfort from them. "I do not understand you, Carlisle Cullen. Perhaps I never will." I turned away from his empty gaze.

I didn't spare myself the trouble of pulling my hood up as I stormed out into the tempestuous night. I pushed myself hard against the cold wind, fighting the despair and loneliness building in my chest. Tired from lack of sleep and the events of the evening, I fell into a shallow sleep.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

"Oh, Carlisle... I believe I'm becoming too dependent on you," I said, stroking the soft material of the petticoat he'd given me.

He smiled, an amused glint in his eye. "How can such a thing be when I've supported you so little?"

"I don't know...," I mused, pulling my arm through one of the sleeves. "Perhaps I never will..."


Sorry if the last part is confusing. Remember, Cornelia only dreams her memories. So, basically, when there's italics, it's a flashback.

I hope this chapter answered some questions about Carlisle's distance, or at least, arose many more. The next chapter will explain all.

Your reviews keep me writing!

-Scarlet