A/N: Thank you to all my readers and reviewers for your patience. I had a little trouble writing this chapter. It didn't want to do what I wanted it to. So after several rewrites and walking away in frustration for a couple weeks, I am finally satisfied enough to share it with you. Sometimes you just need to move on, right? If you are a person who likes pictures with your stories, I have posted a few links to pictures on my profile page. I will continue to add to them as the story progresses.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything Twilight.
Chapter Eleven-A Bushel of Disappointment
The fall of 1774 has arrived and my fifteenth birthday has passed. I have been spending many of my days in the comfortable companionship of my best friend, Jacob. Nothing has changed on the surface of our relationship, but with my new awareness of his infatuation, I am being cautious not to show him too much unwarranted affection. If he has noticed a change in my demeanor, he has not voiced it.
Jacob has , however, mentioned the changes I have been making to my appearance. He says things like: "Izzy, it would be a lot easier to hunt if you weren't wearing a skirt," or "Izzy, if you wouldn't spend so much time doing your hair and actually practiced, your aim might improve." I do not let his comments dishearten me, even though I know he thinks my attempts at self improvement are impractical. I am not ignorant to the fact that being attractive has nothing to do with being practical. So, I choose to interpret his comments as positive affirmation of my changing appearance. That, and I also notice the way he has taken to appraising me when he thinks I am unaware.
Today, though, I will not be spending any time with Jacob. Instead, I will be spending the afternoon with Pa, Emmett and the rest of the residents of our small community. We have all been asked by Mr. and Mrs. Cullen to come to the Cullen estate today for an apple picking party. The orchards upon the Cullen estate are teaming with apples ripe for the picking and too plentiful for the Cullen's to make use of them all, even with the majority of them being sent east to market. This gathering will not only give everyone a chance to complete their winter stores and visit before the long winter sets in, but we will also get to hear what news Mr. Cullen has brought home from the Continental Congress.
We arrive at the Cullen estate and Pa follows the other guests example by parking our wagon in a clearing next to the orchard. Pa and Emmett hop down and then Pa surprises me by offering me his hand down. He even says I look 'a might pretty today' as I help retrieve the bushel baskets from the back of the wagon. I blush and fidget with my dress. I am not used to such attention. Up until recently, I have preferred to wear Emmett's old britches, except to church on Sundays where Pa insists I wear a dress, but today I decide to don my everyday dress that has not seen much use. It is fashioned of plain brown linen and, truthfully, is ill-fitting and not very pretty. So, to make my attire more attractive I have adorned my straw hat with a yellow ribbon Emmett gave me for my birthday and wrapped my mother's red shawl around my shoulders. With the different shades of brown in my dress, hair, and eyes, I am a fitting echo of autumn's palette.
The sky is clear and the air is crisp, perfect weather for picking apples. The gathering is already a bustle of activity. A bonfire is ablaze for warming up when the bite in the air gets to be too much and there are tables set out with baked goods and hot apple cider for refreshments.
"Good day to you, Charles," Mr. Cullen approaches us and greets my Pa.
"And to you, Carlisle," my Pa replies. They then proceed to discuss the weather as I look about for Alice.
"You'll find her waiting for you by the wagon," Mr. Cullen answers my unspoken question and points me off in the direction of the hay wagon that will be shuttling people and apples throughout the orchard today.
I find Alice right where Mr. Cullen said she would be and we climb up and find a seat on a hay bale with our baskets placed at our feet. The wagon soon rolls along into the trees and, as expected, Alice inundates me with information about her latest excitement.
"I have such a surprise for you, Izzy," Alice tells me as she squeezes my hand. " I overheard Pa talking to his stableman yesterday. He said that one of the cats has had kittens in the hayloft. We have to sneak away to go see them. Mother has kept me so busy seeing that everything is ready for our guests that I haven't had a chance to see them yet. Besides, I figured it would be more fun with you."
"Really, how old are they? We just have an old barn cat that keeps the vermin out of the stores. I'd love to see the kittens," I reply.
"Father says they are old enough to be separated from the mother. He says I can keep one, but the others will have to go. Maybe your Pa would let you have one, too" she offers.
"I would love to have pet," I sigh longingly. There are no shortage of animals about the farm, but Pa says it's not prudent to become attached to animals that will most likely end up on our supper table.
"Well then, if your Pa gives permission, it will be a late birthday gift to you," she declares.
"Thank you, Alice," I happily reply.
The wagon stops and starts frequently, but Alice and I do not get off until we are in a section of the orchard closest to the large barn where the kittens are. We stealthily hide our baskets and run as quickly as I can safely manage through the trees. The barn is wide open and with all the activity in the orchards today, it is relatively deserted. We slip in unnoticed and climb the ladder to the loft. It takes us only a few minutes to locate the Mama cat and her precious litter of kittens.
"Aaaww, Alice, they are so sweet," I compliment, as I pick up a little orange kitten and snuggle her to my neck.
"I don't know how I will ever pick just one," she says, as we settle into the hay.
We spend the next hour holding each and every little cat, including the Mama. I have decided that if Pa will let me, I will choose the little orange tabby that first caught my eye. She is the prettiest in my mind and seems eager for affection.
"I think we should get back before we are missed, Alice," I say, as I reluctantly put the little tabby back with the others.
"Yes, I suppose you are right. The sooner we fill our baskets with apples, the sooner we can ask your Pa if you can keep your little kitten," she replies.
We get up and just as we get to the ladder, we hear footfall and a girl giggling. Not wanting to be seen for fear of being reprimanded for sneaking away, Alice and I shrink down onto our stomachs and peer over the edge of the loft to see who has entered the barn.
"Emmett, you are no gentleman," a female voice giggles.
"Now, Rosie, don't be so mean," a familiar voice responds playfully, then pulls the girl into the barn and into our view.
Alice and I share an astonished expression. Who would of thought that Miss Rosalie could actually giggle? She does not sound like the same girl. Even her face is softer and her eyes twinkle when Emmett takes her hands in his and draws her near.
I quickly signal Alice with a finger over my lips that we should remain quiet. I would feel embarrassed to make our presence known during such an intimate moment.
Emmett and Miss Rosalie stare into each others eyes and just as Emmett leans slowly forward to place a kiss upon her lips, she quickly turns her head. Emmett stops still for a few seconds and then takes her chin in his hand and turns her to look at her face. Her eyes do not return to his, instead, they remain down.
"What's wrong, Rosie?" he asks. "I would not steal your kisses. My intentions are true. Pa has helped me secure my own land and in the spring I will be working my own farm. I would have you for my bride and build you a fine home," he professes. At this, she looks up into his eyes and he asks, "if you'll have me?"
Time is standing still and I am holding my breath to hear what Miss Rosalie will say. She looks into Emmett's eyes and we all see her emotions dance across her face. Surprise, disbelief, joy, uncertainty, anguish, and then resolve.
"I am sorry, Emmett," she says quietly. "If I were to choose a husband for love alone, then I would choose you…" she begins, and then reaches up to touch his cheek. "but my family has expectations of me. I cannot marry a farmer."
Emmett stares at Miss Rosalie with a hurt expression and then steps back away from her. She reaches out to touch him, but he pulls away. I can see him struggling for the right words to gain her acceptance. His face looks determined when he finally says, "You will never find someone who loves you as I do. I would give you all that I will ever have."
"It is not about my own happiness. I have others to consider," she explains.
"And where are they now?" he counters angrily, causing us all to flinch. "Your family that cares for you so much. They sent you away for the shame of your sister. A sad reminder, that's what you are to them."
It is Miss Rosalie who now looks pained as she reasons, "All the more reason for me to make a good match. If I can restore my families honor, then it is my duty to do so."
"Then why have they sent you here to the middle of nowhere?" Emmett asks accusingly. "There are no fine, eligible matches for you here."
Miss Rosalie does not respond right away. She simply wrings her hands and lowers her face in shame. I can see Emmett's expression soften with the realization of having hurt her feelings. Before Emmett can offer her any comfort, Miss Rosalie suprises us all. "I was sent here by my parents to secure Edward's affections, but it seems his interests lie elsewhere," she admits.
Emmett's expression is hard once again and his shoulders and hands are flexed. He is staring at her like she has just punched him in the gut. Miss Rosalie takes a step back. I have never seen him angry like this. I lay a calming hand on Alice who is trembling with fright. I know my brother would never hurt anyone, especially not a girl. He turns away from her to calm himself down. A minute passes before he turns and faces her once more.
"Do you think this is all a game, playing with people's affections?" he asks, with an eerily calm voice. "Well, you sure played me, didn't you?"
Rosalie silently shakes her head 'no' as tears start to stream down her face.
"You are right," Emmett affirms. "His interests lie elsewhere. That's why you have been so cruel to her, isn't it? Let's just hope that he is not as snobbish as you. Izzy deserves better." He turns to leave, but before he does, he looks at her with disgust and adds, "And so do I."
Miss Rosalie watches him leave and then wraps her arms around herself in an effort of self consolation. She doesn't make a sound , but her anguish is evident as she silently cries. Long minutes pass until she looks around at the emptiness left in the wake of their quarrel. Pulling herself together, she wipes away her silent tears and straightens her dress and her posture before she slowly leaves us to try and comprehend what we have just seen.
Alice and I sit up away from the edge of the loft. There are no words exchanged as we climb down from the loft and exit the barn. We return to the orchard and begin filling our baskets with apples. Eventually, the wagon stops on the path where we are quietly waiting. Ben, the footman from our day at the lake, puts our apples up on the flatbed and helps us climb back up to our perch on the hay bale. When Ben gets the wagon rolling again, it is Alice that finally breaks the silence.
"I think I will choose the white kitten with black spots," she muses. "I think he is the most spirited and lively. He will be good friend for me when I get bored. We can find adventures together."
"Yes, that's what you need," I tease, "a little more excitement in your life."
Alice giggles and nudges my shoulder with her own. I return the nudge and then we are both laughing. It is silly and juvenile, but it is reassuring.
The wagon meanders through the trees and back to the clearing. Pa helps us down and then carries the apples I have picked to our wagon. He rejoins us at the refreshment tables and before taking a bite of a pumpkin cookie he asks, "Where did you girls disappear to today?"
"Um…nowhere, Pa. We were picking apples," I answer coyly.
"Well, then I don't suppose you have anything to ask me then, do you?" he asks, with a serious face.
Wait. What?
Pa laughs and winks at Alice before saying, "Carlisle said Alice would have you off looking at those kittens as soon as my back was turned," Alice blushes bright red at this, " and that I would be leaving here with one, sure as shoot."
"Can I have one, Pa? Please." I whine.
"I suppose it would be alright as long as you promise you're the one who'll be caring for it," he acquiesces. "We'll stop by the barn before we leave."
"Thank you, Pa" I say, and then rock up onto my tip-toes to give him a peck on the cheek.
"Your welcome," he chuckles. "Now, have you seen your brother running around here anywhere?"
Alice and I look at each other and the smiles slip from our faces. "No. Not lately," I reply.
"I know he has been wanting to hear what Carlisle has to say about Philadelphia," he says, as he scans the crowd. ""Oh, here he is now."
Emmett comes to stand on the other side of Pa. He offers us no acknowledgment, puts his hands in his pockets, and looks around at nothing in particular. Pa notices his agitation right away.
"You all right, Son?" Pa asks.
"Yeah, I'm good," Emmett says, but his voice cracks and he looks down at his feet to hide his expression. Pa is not fooled. He does not comment further because just then Mr. Cullen draws our attention to where he is standing upon the back of the hay wagon.
"Good day, my friends," Mr. Cullen begins, "may I have your attention?" He then proceeds to tell the gathering about what was discussed at the Congress, but I am too distracted with worry over Emmett to pay any attention to boycotts of British goods or forming of militia.
I had suspected that Emmett might get hurt by his involvement with Miss Rosalie. Whether it was her intention or not, she has been careless with both their hearts. I only hope that Emmett's easy temperament allows him to recover quickly from this disappointment.
The speech comes to an end and the crowd disperses as our neighbors and friends return to their wagons to set out for their homes. Alice decides to ride along with us and so we climb into the bed of the wagon with the apples and let Emmett ride on the bench seat with Pa. Pa drives the wagon slowly along the winding dirt road and brings the wagon to a stop in front of the barn.
"Why have we stopped here?" Emmett asks, with a confused look on his face.
"It seems the girls have spent their time together today stowed away in the hay loft becoming attached to a litter of kittens," Pa replies. "I promised Izzy she could take one home." Pa turns to look at us. "You hurry on up and pick your kitten. There's still supper to be had and chores to do today."
"I already know the one I want. I won't be but a minute," I tell him, as I hurry into the barn before Emmett has time to realize that he and Miss Rosalie may not have been alone in the barn today.
Alice and I climb into the loft and quickly gather our new friends to our chests and return to where Pa and Emmett are waiting next to the wagon.
"Let's have a look," Pa says, as he reaches out to for my kitten. He takes her and checks her over to make sure she is healthy. "She's sound enough, I suppose. Sweet little thing, too."
Emmett reaches out to pet my kitten's tiny head. "Do you know what you'll call her?" he asks.
"No, I haven't given it any thought yet, " I reply. The kitten starts to purr at Emmett's touch.
"Can I hold her?" he asks. I nod and Pa places the tiny cat into Emmett's large hands. Pa climbs back onto the wagon while I say goodbye to Alice.
"I will see you for lessons on Sunday," I promise, as we give each other a quick one armed hug, being careful not to squish her kitten. I climb into the back of the wagon and Emmett hands me back my kitten and then climbs in next to me. Pa starts us on our way home and Emmett reaches over once more to pet my kitten. His large, strong hands are a paradox to the gentleness they display.
"You heard, didn't you?" he asks.
"If you need to talk about it, I'm here," I offer. Emmett nods, but does not speak. He is not ready.
I try to put aside my worry for Emmett. My mind soon drifts to thoughts of Edward, as it usually does. What Emmett said to Miss Rosalie suddenly repeats over and over again in my head. "Let's just hope that he is not as snobbish as you." Edward has displayed an interest in me, but what if that interest is fleeting? Would Edward encourage my affection for him and then decide that I am not his equal, like Miss Rosalie has done to Emmett?
It has never occurred to me that Miss Rosalie could have an interest in Edward. If I look at things from a distance, all the pieces fall into place. Miss Rosalie and Edward would make an ideal couple. They are both beautiful and proud. She would make a fine society wife. She knows how to be a lady. Which makes me wonder what I could possibly offer Edward besides my heart. I have been determined to become a lady so that Edward would consider me, but will any effort I make to be a lady be good enough? It seems that in matters of love, for both Emmett and myself, only time will tell.
"She is the color of a pumpkin," Emmett says softly, interrupting my thoughts.
I look down at my kitten. She has curled into a circle and fallen asleep on my lap.
"Then that's what we'll call her," I whisper. "Pumpkin."
Emmett smiles, then quietly agrees, "Pumpkin, it is."
