I read to Bella after she woke. She seemed to enjoy sitting quietly beside me in the warm glow of the fire as the words flowed from my lips. I had to concentrate to keep my eyes upon the pages rather than on her beautiful face. Her soft, contented smile was one of the most charming things I had ever seen.

She returned to the kitchen in the afternoon to eat some more soup. Her appetite seemed to be improving incrementally, for which I felt grateful. However, the question she posed to me while she ate was slightly unsettling.

"Aren't you going to have any?" she asked. Her tone was innocent, but I saw a hint of suspicion in her eyes.

"I had something earlier," I replied, attempting to keep my voice steady.

"While I was sleeping?"

I nodded.

"That was quite a while ago," she said.

I shrugged. "I suppose my appetite isn't quite what it was before I became ill."

"But you need to eat, Edward. You have to keep up your strength!" Now she truly appeared concerned.

"I'm fine," I assured her, forcing a smile.

She frowned prettily. "You're still awfully pale."

"Mmm," I murmured noncommittally.

She took another spoonful, swallowing slowly, then looked up at me again. "You've been here for days. Do you need to go home?"

I had not thought about my small house at all during the time I had been here. There was nothing there that I needed, with the possible exception of my violin. I wondered if Bella would enjoy hearing me play. Perhaps it would entertain her.

"I don't have any livestock, and I haven't attempted a garden yet," I replied, "so there's really no urgency for me to return."

Indeed, the thought of being away from Bella, even for an hour, left me utterly bereft. I had not considered until now that I would need to leave her at some point. I could not remain here indefinitely…

"Still," she continued gently, "you might want a change of clothes or something."

I glanced down at my attire. At the moment I wore only a white shirt, dark trousers, socks, and boots. I had removed my jacket and vest when I had first begun treating Bella. I suppose I did appear rather rumpled, with my sleeves rolled up and my shirt untucked.

"Yes," I agreed. "I apologize if I'm unkempt."

She smiled. "I don't mind, Edward. I just thought you would like to use you own things." Her gaze lowered slightly. "I'm sure you'd prefer your own razor…"

Oh! She assumed I had borrowed her father's shaving implements. My complexion was, of course, completely smooth. I had not grown facial hair since I was changed.

"I'm sorry," I stammered. "I should have asked if it was all right to use your father's razor…"

"I don't mind," she said, "and he wouldn't, either."

"Thank you, Bella. And you're right. I should return home for a few items. But I don't like the thought of leaving you alone." This last part was the absolute truth.

"I think I'll be all right," she replied. "If it helps you worry less, I'll stay in bed while you're gone."

These words did, indeed, alleviate some of my anxiety. I had been concerned that she might not wish me to return.

"That would ease my mind," I agreed. "I shouldn't be gone long… only an hour or so."

"How far away is your house?" she asked.

"About a mile," I replied.

"I'd like to see it some time."

"Really? It's not much—"

"But it's yours."

Touched by the sentiment, I smiled. "It is."

She finished the soup, and I made certain that she was comfortably settled in bed with several books, water, and an extra blanket near by. While the rational part of my mind assured me that Bella would be fine for a scant sixty minutes, the more emotional part fretted. In the end, the latter won out, and I dashed away the moment I was in the copse.

I reached my house in less than ten minutes and hastily gathered a few items. I stuffed two shirts and a pair of trousers into a valise, along with my comb. I did not own any shaving supplies, of course, and determined that I would need to purchase some if Bella did indeed visit my humble abode. I had learned to remember the trappings of humanity during the time I spent with Carlisle. He and I were always careful to be seen at the local mercantile and druggist's purchasing various items that human men would need.

I had considered bringing some newspapers to Bella at one time, and now I decided that she would indeed enjoy them, so I placed them in my valise, as well. I also took my violin from the armoire, and I selected several books I felt she might like.

I returned to her house at a sprint, stopping in the grove to consult my watch. I had been gone for twenty-one minutes. This was not long enough, I realized, so I waited impatiently in the shelter of the trees. The minutes dragged by, tormenting me with their sluggishness. Finally, when another twenty-six minutes had elapsed I emerged and forced myself to walk at a brisk human pace toward the house.

I stepped inside, calling out, "Bella, I'm back."

She did not respond, which both surprised and concerned me. I dropped my bags by the door and hurried to her room. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, pale and perspiring. Her heart was beating rapidly, and her breaths came in little pants.

"Bella," I cried, "what's the matter?"

She shook her head. "I just… " She was struggling to steady her breathing.

"Sshh, it's all right," I soothed, sitting down beside her to take her wrist. Her pulse was racing. She had clearly over-exerted her frail body. "Just take slow breaths," I encouraged, placing my other hand over her back.

After a few minutes, her pulse slowed and her respiration became more even. I helped her to lie down.

"What were you doing?" I asked. I could not fathom what would have left her in such a state.

"I… I wasn't tired, so I thought I'd… do a few things around the house…"

"Oh Bella," I said, shaking my head, "you only need to ask me. I'll do whatever you like."

"Anything?" she asked.

"Of course. Anything at all."

She gave a small nod. I lifted my hand to her face, feeling her skin to see if her fever had increased. Fortunately it had not, but I resolved to be extra cautious with her. She could easily suffer a relapse, and that was something I wished vehemently to avoid. I had come so close to losing her already…

"Did you…," she began diffidently, "get everything you needed?"

"I did," I replied.

She nodded, seeming to relax slightly. She was clearly exhausted.

"Why don't you rest for a little while," I suggested. "I should attend to Callie and start some supper for you."

"You won't eat?" she asked.

"Oh… I had something at my house. I had a few things in the pantry…"

"Of course," she murmured. Her eyelids lowered, and she exhaled a sigh.

I left her to sleep. After milking the cow and changing my clothes, I took out my violin and readied it for playing. A melody was forming in my mind, and I was eager to attempt to reproduce it upon the strings.

I slipped outside to catch another rabbit then prepared a simple stew for Bella with the meat, carrots, onions, and potatoes. She had been sleeping fitfully, and I had checked on her repeatedly to be certain she was not feverish or in pain. She stilled each time I entered her room, but her restlessness returned shortly after I left.

When I heard her begin to stir in earnest, I ladled some into a bowl and carried it to her room.

She did not protest when I told her that I felt it best that she remain in bed for the rest of the evening. She was still a little paler than I liked, and her temperature remained a degree above normal. She had definitely overtaxed herself.

She ate only a few bites of stew before setting it aside.

"Are you not hungry?" I asked with concern.

"It's not…" She looked up at me, an apologetic expression upon her face. "It's not very appetizing."

"Are you nauseated?"

"No, Edward. I just-" She cleared her throat. "You don't really know how to cook, do you?"

This caught me completely by surprise. I had checked the meat and vegetables to be certain they were fully cooked. The meat was brown throughout, and the carrots and potatoes were soft. Wasn't that the way stew should be?

Still, I had clearly done something wrong, so I replied, "No, not very well, I'm afraid."

"You don't cook for yourself," she stated.

"No. I tend to rely on other items." I paused for an instant to fabricate something plausible. "Canned goods, mostly."

"I see."

I gestured toward her bowl rather miserably, knowing I had failed her. "Is it completely inedible?"

"No. It just needs some salt and pepper."

"Oh! I can do that." I shot to my feet and hurried to the kitchen, returning with the seasonings.

Bella added a bit of each to her bowl and took a few more bites. Still, her appetite was lacking.

"Is there something else I can make for you?" I asked. "Under your guidance, of course."

She smiled thinly. "Maybe some tea. I like the way you prepare it, with milk and sugar."

At least I had done something right. After she had finished the tea, I excused myself and returned shortly with my violin. Her eyes widened at the sight of it.

"Do you play?" she asked.

"Yes. I have for many years. I thought… I mean, perhaps you would enjoy…" Suddenly I felt shy. "Would you like me to play for you?"

"Oh yes," she replied, a sincere smile lighting up her face.

"Is there anything in particular you'd like to hear?"

"I enjoy Brahms," she replied. "Do you know any of his works?"

"I believe I do," I said, and my hands seemed to move of their own accord as I played the Concerto in D.

When I finished, I looked up to see an expression of awe upon her beautiful face.

"Was that all right?" I asked.

"Oh Edward," she breathed, "that's one of my favorites. It was wonderful."

"Thank you. There is something else I'd like to play for you, if you don't mind."

"Mind?" She laughed. "No, I don't mind at all!"

The melody that had formed in my mind now flowed from the strings, sweet and gentle, with poignant undertones that eventually shifted into more dulcet strains.

Bella's eyes were half-closed as she listened, an expression of contentment settling over her. When I had played the final note, she opened her eyes to blink at me.

"What was that?" she asked. "It was so beautiful. I've never heard it before."

"It's your lullaby," I replied.

"You… you wrote that for me?"

I smiled. "Actually, it sort of wrote itself."

"It's the loveliest melody I've ever heard," she said.

"Of course it is. It's yours."

It took a moment for the significance of my words to reach her, but when they did she pressed a hand over her heart. "Thank you, Edward."

"The pleasure is truly all mine."

I played several more songs for Bella, but she wanted to hear her lullaby again, so I finished with that. As the final strains faded softly away, her eyes closed and she drifted into a deep, sound sleep.


Bella did not stir until dawn. Her restful slumber seemed to benefit her. In the morning her temperature was normal, and her wound was healing very well. It seemed her appetite was returning, too.

She explained how to prepare a dish consisting of potatoes, onions, salt, and pepper fried in lard, and, while it smelled repulsive to me, I dutifully followed her instructions. She sat at the table and ate the entire serving I'd placed in her dish. Granted, it was a small portion, but the fact that she consumed it all heartened me.

After breakfast, we moved to the parlor. Once again I had made a fire, and the settee remained before the hearth. We sat side by side, and I offered her one of the newspapers I had brought.

She took it eagerly, skimming the headlines then reading the date. "This was published the day before I left Boise," she said. "Do you remember the date that you traveled?"

"It was May 27," I replied.

"Did you come by train?"

I nodded. A smile spread across her face as her eyes widened slightly. "Edward, I think we may have been on the same train!"

"We were," I replied. "Do you recall stumbling as you boarded?"

She lifted her hands to her face. "A kind man helped me…Oh! That was you! I knew you looked familiar the first time you stopped by here, but I couldn't place you."

"I felt the same way."

"When did you realize it?"

"Shortly after we'd spoken."

"You should have said something! It's such a coincidence."

"It is," I agreed. "Or maybe it's serendipity."

A little grin quirked the corners of her mouth. "Perhaps. 'There are more things in heaven and earth…'" she murmured.

"'…than are dreamt of in your philosophy,'" I finished, easily recalling the line from Hamlet.

Bella's smiled faded, and her expression became serious. She took a slow breath. "Edward," she said earnestly.

"What is it?" I asked.

"You said yesterday that you would do anything I asked."

"Yes, of course," I agreed immediately. It was true; I would do her bidding to the ends of the earth.

"Then I want you to tell me something."

She looked directly at me, her gaze utterly penetrating. I felt she could see into my very being.

"Bella," I began, suddenly anxious about the direction the conversation was going.

She lifted her hand. "Please, Edward. I need to know."

My own gaze was pleading; the knowledge she sought would devastate us both. She would feel terror first, revulsion next, then she would send me away. And my departure would break me utterly, leaving me irrevocably shattered.

She placed her warm little hand over mine. I did not understand the gesture. Clearly she suspected something, yet she did not appear afraid.

"It's all right," she said gently. "It doesn't bother me. I just need to know."

"Know what?" I managed, my throat very tight.

"What you are."


To be continued...