Author Note: As always, I own nothing, and a huge thank you goes to McGee42, Jointgifts, and JaspersDestiny.

Previously:

"I'll write to you," I said softly, turning around to face the barn.

Jasper's sharp inhalation of breath was the only indication that he heard me. I couldn't bear to turn back around and face him.

"Stay safe, and I hope you'll write me back. Please, thank your family for a lovely evening and tell Millie I'll be waiting by the barn," I said as I ran down the porch steps, trying desperately to get away from Jasper before the tears came.

I wasn't positive, but I thought I heard him call out, "I won't give up."

Chapter 14

The ride home with Millie was thankfully silent; she knew not to ask me any questions, and I didn't offer an explanation for my tear-streaked face. When we returned to the house, I went straight to my room and closed the door. Lying on the bed, I wasn't sure if Jasper leaving would signify the end of my time in 1862 or not. What more could I have to do in this time? I had already sent Jasper back to war dejected.

For the better part of a week, I went through all of my household duties in a numb and detached way. It was as if I was just waiting to disappear from this time at any given moment. Nothing seemed to really matter anymore. Unless we were cooking in the kitchen together, conversations with Millie with short and impersonal. Even when we did speak, Millie had to constantly repeat herself to break through the fog of my melancholy. There were times she had to remind me of what I was doing mid-task. One day, I stood poised with an egg held over a bowl for several minutes before Millie interrupted my mental debate by saying, "I believe you were going to crack that." While I felt sorry for not interacting with her more, I didn't want to burden her with my dilemma.

It was obvious to her that I felt miserable. I couldn't eat or do much other than lie in my room. I knew I had feelings for Jasper, but I wasn't sure what those feelings were. There was definitely an attraction between us. I was hoping that it might go away, especially with the distance placed between us by the war.

I couldn't be positive how much of my sadness was from my fear of losing Jasper forever or from the fact that I had essentially done to him what Edward had done to me. I had acted just like Edward; I had denied Jasper because of my concern about being from a different "world." Of course, that wasn't the only reason I was holding Jasper at arm's length. Even though we were from dissimilar eras, my primary concern—even more than the status of my feelings for Edward—had been the idea of Jasper and Alice together.

It seemed like so long ago when I'd had the conversation with Alice about her not being Jasper's mate. She'd told me I needed to open my heart. Did she know that this would happen—whatever it was that was happening to me? Was she somehow giving me permission, her blessing to pursue Jasper? I was starting to hope that she was. How much would I need to open my heart to him? How much could I? More importantly, how far could I expect his heart to open to me?

While Edward could have discussed his concerns with me instead of simply disappearing, I couldn't discuss my fears with Jasper. I had to squash whatever voice in the back of my head was whispering that if I could accept the reality of vampires and werewolves, maybe Jasper could accept the possibility of time travel.

No.

After a few days of my sullen behavior, Millie tossed an empty envelope on the kitchen table.

"What's this?" I asked as I read the front of it.

"An envelope," Millie answered innocently, clearly wanting to drag things out.

"I can see that," I replied. I couldn't help but be a little sharp when I spoke to her.

Millie just smiled and said, "It happens to be an envelope already marked with where you need to post a letter to Jasper. Now, I suggest you stop sulking around my kitchen and go write to him."

"Thank you," I said as I rushed to stand up from the table, giving her my first smile since Jasper had left home.

"The faster you admit your feelings for the boy, the better off we'll all be," Millie added under her breath.

I let that comment slide as I made my way up to my room. In my haste, I ran right into the banister, much to Millie's amusement, but her chuckling only fueled my rush upstairs. I wasn't sure what I would say to Jasper, but I had promised to write. The only way I could gauge how Jasper was feeling was to see if he would write me back.

I decided that it didn't matter what I wrote to Jasper; he had said that life in the camps was terribly dull, and any news from home was appreciated. I sat down and started to tell him about the cooking lessons from Millie I had started taking before he left. I was eagerly learning all that she had to teach me. Other than the few dishes my Grandma Marie had taught me how to make, everything I had learned had been out of necessity; I had never lived with anyone who enjoyed cooking as much I did. It was a real pleasure to share time in the kitchen with someone who knew what she was doing. She had shown me how to make Cheshire pork pie, something she said Jasper would eat by the plateful as a little boy. I had also mastered dishes I would have never imagined, like stewed cucumbers, hominy croquettes, and apple black-cap, a truly delicious desert that made the whole house smell like Christmas. In telling him about my time cooking with Millie, I couldn't help but relay some of the more entertaining tales of Renée's lack of culinary skills, like the time she accidentally served a mostly raw turkey for Christmas, or her one-time obsession with beet juice.

I realized that when we were together, I had never spoken much about Charlie and Renée; I had been so afraid that I would mention something about the future or specific to Arizona or Washington. In writing a letter, I had time to think about what I was saying, and I had the freedom to tell him more about my family. Even though human Jasper would never have the chance to meet my parents, I did want him to know about them. He and Charlie actually had a lot in common. They were both incredibly observant, were primarily soft spoken but tended to speak profoundly, and it was obvious they both felt most comfortable when they were spending time outdoors. I tried not to think about how much I missed my parents while I was writing, but I figured it would be normal to mention such a thing to Jasper, considering how far away from my parents I was supposed to be.

It hadn't been long since Jasper left, but it seemed like a lot had actually occurred in Houston in that time. The draft age had recently been raised from thirty-five to forty-five. Due to Thad's last birthday, he had just escaped conscription; both Rebecca and Millie had cried in relief. Unlike Jasper, many of the men who were required to fight weren't staying in Texas but were being sent further east. That decision was met with outrage, and many people were speaking out about how it went against the reasons the Confederacy was even founded. I had to ask Millie to explain, and she said it was because each of the states should be able to choose how to govern themselves without the federal government dictating what they should and shouldn't do. Some of these dissenters opposed to the mandatory service found their houses and barns burned because of their vocal opinions and perceived lack of Confederate patriotism. Millie had said that from then on, any negative thoughts about the war should only be shared at home.

Jasper had mentioned how crowded the camps were and how few their resources, and I worried that, even with a small number of new soldiers headed to Galveston, his life might become more uncomfortable. I joked that perhaps with the influx of new soldiers, they would run out of space, and Jasper would have to come home again.

As I sealed my letter, I hoped that he would write back. Millie said that the mail service wasn't very reliable, and that with the military traffic and private mail carriers, it generally took a week for a letter to arrive, even from a city as close as Galveston. I was actually pleasantly surprised that it would only take that long. She said that prior to the start of the war, the mail was sometimes delivered more than once a day to the homes in town, and she was a little shocked the same wasn't true for Little Rock. That last comment caused me to put a stop to my curiosity.

As the days passed, I grew anxious, but my nerves were thankfully quieted after only five days.

I was alone in the kitchen, peeling potatoes for dinner, when Millie pushed through the door.

"I can't believe how warm it is outside today for this time of year. It's downright unseasonable. I was just on the porch, and I couldn't believe it."

It had been nice outside, but it didn't seem to be as shocking as Millie was making it sound.

"I had to go outside to the gate, and it was just so pleasant."

I finally stopped my task and looked up at Millie to see that she had her hands clasped behind her back and a smirk on her face. When she saw she had my attention, she glanced around the room with forced nonchalance. She obviously had just wanted me to quit what I was doing.

"It seems something arrived for you in the mail today," she said casually.

My heart instantly leapt in my chest, and not wanting to risk soiling a letter from Jasper, I tore off my apron and couldn't wipe off my hands fast enough. When she handed me the envelope, I practically ran up the stairs to read it while alone.

Dearest Bella,

I cannot tell you how happy it made me to receive your letter; it was much enjoyed. In honesty, even those around me who were not privy to your words found it entertaining, as I laughed so heartily aloud as I read the accounts of your mother in the kitchen.

Since I have returned to camp, I have taken my pen in hand many times to write to you, but I was not sure if my letter would be welcome. I am thoroughly glad to find that it would have been. I was almost afraid to hope that you would keep your promise to write, and for that doubt, I apologize.

I also must apologize if my behavior before leaving was too forward. I meant every word that I said to you (and so many more that I did not speak), but it was not my intention to ever pressure you or force you to do something against your will. I respect that you have your reasons for your decisions. Despite what you have said to me, I have seen the way you look at me. I suspect there is a discord between your head and your heart. I must admit that it is my fervent wish that your heart will win this battle.

As for what or who awaits you in Arkansas: may the post between Houston and Little Rock be as quick as that between Houston and Galveston!

After reading your account, it troubles me to think of the dangers facing dissenters. Bella, you must promise that no matter your feelings on the war, you will do as Millie says and keep such thoughts private—even those said in jest. I am sure that you would, but I do not know what I would do should something befall you or Millie. Should you ever find yourself scared or worried for your safety, you must immediately go to my father's house. War makes people do strange things, even far from the front, so always keep your wits about you.

Outside of detailing the tediousness of daily life in the camp, I am not at liberty to express my current orders. However, I can say that while we are outside of Galveston now, we plan to be within the city limits by the beginning of 1863. As we are now at the end of October, this leaves us precious time for preparations.

My days consist of leading my men in countless drills; the monotony is certainly easier to bear for those men who were recently on furlough. I must admit that when I am not focused on the speed and accuracy of our troops, I find myself drawn to thoughts of your chestnut hair and lovely brown eyes.

Of course, I would love to be at home enjoying the dishes you are making with Millie, but more so, I would love the honor of hearing your laugh once more. It pains my heart to think that the last glimpse I had of your face was one of sadness. Every evening, I have been using what small amount of lamp light I have to reread Leaves of Grass, remembering our happy times together.

Do know that as the weather grows colder, my heart is continually warmed by thoughts of you—and even if you cannot see it yet—thoughts of the future we could have together. Though we may be apart, my heart is ever with yours.

The time for sleep has come, and I go so happily, dreaming of another letter from you, dear Bella.

Yours devotedly,

Jasper

When I finished Jasper's letter for the second time, I set it down on my bed. I hadn't received very many letters before, and I was taken by the formal beauty of this one. I was amazed that even written correspondence with Jasper could set my heart pounding.

I certainly wouldn't make him wait for a response.

Author Note: Thank you so much for all of the wonderful reviews. I appreciate every one and always reply with a teaser for the next chapter.

For additional teasers and answers to your questions, check out the "Leaves of Grass" thread on the Twilighted forums. The link is in my profile.