Chapter 14

It was late afternoon when my father and Edward got back from fishing. The fog had lifted, revealing an overcast, grey sky, weighed down by heavy rain clouds. There was a pressure in the air, the sort that made old men's knees throb and my head hurt, and I wondered if a storm was brewing.

I was sitting in the kitchen, watching the back door when my father walked in. His hair and face were damp from being outside for so long, small beads clinging to the brown-grey strands, and misting his face. Despite the effects of the weather, his face held a calm look, a peaceful one. I liked that a lot.

I closed my text book, the action sending a puff of dusty particles into the air. I'd borrowed it from Wentworth Library, and from the card, I could tell I was the first person to read it in a good few years.

"Where's Edward?" The words escaped my lips before I could think them through. I looked beyond the door and into the misty outside, not able to see anybody else out there.

Daddy raised his thick eyebrows, shrugging his heavy coat from his shoulders. "Carrying the equipment to the shed."

I squinted through the half-light, trying to locate him in the garden. "He's still alive then?"

Daddy laughed. "For now." He hung his clothes on the hook by the door and ran his hands under the kitchen taps.

"Did you catch any fish?" He seemed in too good a mood for them not to have bitten. I ran through my mental list of fish dishes; pie, broil or fish fry. I hoped he hadn't caught too many.

"He's bringing them in, too. Said he'd gut and scale them." There was just a hint of something in his voice. It wasn't quite admiration, but seemed more than tolerance.

"You're really making him pay, aren't you?" I stood up and dismantled our Sunbeam coffee pot. Taking it to the sink, I filled the stainless steel jug from the tap. The action calmed me, allowed me to breathe a little easier.

"I'm just passing on the knowledge." He reached up to his moustache, his thumb smoothing errant hairs. His voice turned sombre. "Survival skills are always good things to have, especially for a young man, like Edward, going out into the real world."

It was my turn to raise my eyebrows. "I'm not sure there'll be much call for fishing in the center of Saigon."

My father reached out and put his hand on my shoulder, his fingers cold through the thin fabric of my dress. He squeezed gently, his expression soft. "Don't underestimate where he's going, Bella. There are no guarantees here."

I pulled back, blinking away the threatening tears. Trying to keep my fingers busy, I put the filter into the brewing pot, adding bitter coffee granules on top of the muslin. Screwing the contraption back together, I plugged it in. Not once did I look at my father. I wasn't sure I'd be able to hide my fears if I did.

My nose itched and I reached up to rub it. The room was silent save for the mellow bubbling of the coffee pot, and I watched it vibrate on top of the wooden work surface, the shiny metal misting as the water boiled.

"You want a coffee?" My voice was low, and it hurt my throat to talk. Edward was taking his time unloading the truck and I wanted to run out to see him, but the way my father was hovering around the kitchen made me hesitate. I didn't want to look too desperate.

Even if I was.

"Sure." Daddy pulled out a chair and sat down, unfolding the evening paper with his large, worn hands. "It'll take the chill from my body."

The back door yanked open, the hinges sticking a little, and Edward walked in. Our eyes caught and I lost my breath. His hair was shiny and damp and I reached up to touch it, feeling the beads of moisture clinging to his strands. My fingers stayed there a little too long, enough for my father to clear his throat loudly. Enough for me to snatch my hand back and ignore Edward's amused grin.

"How many did you catch?" I saw that Edward had left the bucket outside. My nose wrinkled as the pungent smell wafted through the kitchen. It made my stomach twist and turn like a rollercoaster at the summer fair.

"Ten big ones. We threw the little ones back." Edward reached out to touch me then jerked his hand back. It was my turn to smile; I guessed his fingers reeked of steelhead.

"We'd better clean them up." I pulled a knife from the drawer, grabbing a bowl to stash the guts in. Edward watched my movements with a considered expression, his lips slightly open. I yanked open the back door." Are you coming or what?"

"You know how to clean them?"

Charlie snorted.

I shot him a look then smiled sweetly at Edward. "Been doing it every weekend since I was four."

My father left us to it when we walked outside. I guess he assumed we couldn't get up to much, sitting outside in late December, gutting fish and removing scales. The weather stuck to my skin as I carried the equipment, and Edward brought the bucket of fish. I covered the table with old newspaper, knowing just how hard it was to scrub out the smell. I worked fast, showing Edward how to clean the steelhead with the minimum of fuss, trying not to heave when I touched the innards.

Two steelheads were done when I handed him the knife, watching as he curled his palm around the handle and lined the blade up with the fish. I couldn't stop myself from laughing when he cut too hard and managed to get the insides all over himself.

He glanced up at me, trying not to smile. "Shut up, Elly Mae Clampett. I'm trying my hardest here."

I laughed harder, taking the gory knife from his hands, demonstrating on the fourth fish the way to do it. I dragged the blade along again, using just the right pressure, wrinkling my nose as the skin fell open.

"I want you to meet my family," he said softly. I looked up from the fish, unable to keep the surprise from my face.

"You just compared me to a hillbilly. Are you sure they'd like me?" It was all I could think of to say. The Cullens were a well-established, Seattle family. God only knew what they'd think of this cop's daughter.

He leaned forward until his forehead touched mine. I laid the knife in the bowl, wishing my hands weren't covered in blood and scales. I wanted to touch him in the worst way.

"They're meeting me at Travis Air Force Base. Let me take you up there; I'll ask my brother to give you a lift home." He gazed at me through thick eyelashes. I could feel my heart banging against my ribcage.

"Have you told them about me?"

He rubbed his nose against mine, angling his head until our lips were barely touching. "They know I have a girl." I could feel every word vibrating through my body.

Fear gripped my stomach like an iron fist. I'd read about the Cullen family, about his Congressman father and socialite mother. I knew his brother had political aspirations of his own, and that he and his wife Rosalie were seen as the golden couple of Washington State. I couldn't see how they could ever approve of a student activist from Wentworth, CA.

His lips captured mine. They moved softly, as if we had all the time in the world. I closed my eyes, hoping to hell that my father was still reading the newspaper.

"Come with me." His words were as insistent as his mouth. They both made me melt inside.

"Okay." I breathed against him.

He was so close I could feel his eyelashes brush my skin as he blinked. His tongue slid inside my lips, moving wetly against my own, and I felt a spark of excitement light up my core. His kisses made it easy to forget the world existed beyond him.

~*CD*~

The sun came up the next morning, like she hadn't received my memo, and her brightness only served to highlight the blackness of my gloom. I sat on the curbside, next to Angela, my body unyielding and stiff as we watched and waited.

"You okay?" She pushed me softly with her shoulder.

I tried to smile. "Not really."

"I guess not."

It was cold despite the sun, and I pulled my sweater a little tighter around me. Angela was humming a song I couldn't quite make out, and I didn't have the energy to question her on it. It was comforting anyway.

I could hear his car before I saw it. The loud throb of the engine cut through the morning air. I squinted as I looked eastward up our road. "Is that them?"

He was bringing Ben with him, having offered the loan of his car while he was away. I didn't know how I'd feel seeing it around town, watching Ben driving his black Pontiac while he was in another country, fighting another war.

"Looks like it." Angela pushed herself off the sidewalk, her legs staggering a little as she regained her balance. I took her proffered hand, allowing her to pull me up alongside her. She squeezed my hand tightly.

I opened my mouth to talk but there was nothing to say. Instead I stood there gaping as the car came to a stop in front of us. And then everything, including my mind, went in slow motion.

Edward lithely exited the car, walking around it in long strides, as he approached me.

He was in uniform.

It fit him like a tailored suit.

I just about died on the spot.

My gaze rose slowly up, taking in his high-shine shoes, crisply-pressed pants and thick, woollen jacket. His tie was neatly knotted, shirt collar stiff against his neck. I moistened my lips, unable to tear my eyes from him, loving and hating the way he looked.

Loving, because he looked beautiful.

Hating, because his uniform meant he was no longer mine.

He reached out a hand and leaned against the car, cocking his head as he stared at me. I watched his gaze sweep lower, as he took in my short dress and long legs, still slightly tanned from the hot summer, even though it had long since passed.

"Hey." The corner of his lip quirked. He ran a hand across his short hair.

"Hi."

"You coming over here?" He raised an eyebrow. I chewed my lip, unsure whether I was being dazzled by him or the sun. I didn't want to tell him I couldn't move. My legs felt weighed down by lead, feet glued to the floor. I blinked twice, trying to remind myself it was only Edward.

But all I could see was Lieutenant Cullen.

Angela shoved me in the small of my back and I stumbled forward. All hopes of seeming sophisticated turned to dust as my feet scuffed the dusty tarmac, my legs staggering to regain my balance. I whipped my head around to shoot her a glare, then composed my features, turning back to Edward with a smile playing at my lips. "I'm coming."

He laughed loudly. His head tipped back and his grin widened as he watched me move toward him. When I was within a few feet he reached out a hand and grabbed me, pulling me against the itchy fabric of his coat. "You took your time." He wasted none of it as he pulled me closer still, curling his fingers under my chin and lifting until my face was inches away from his lips.

"Good things in life are worth waiting for." I said it quietly. I wasn't just talking about today.

"Yes they are." He lowered his face to mine, barely brushing my lips with his own. I flung my arms around him, grasping at his collar, needing him ever closer.

My fingertips brushed his hair. It reminded me of our rubbing velvet, the strands soft yet stiff beneath my touch.

"I miss your long hair," I murmured into his lips. I felt him smile against me.

"Is that all you're gonna miss?" His fingers dug into my behind, pulling our bodies tightly together, enough for me to feel him outlined against my stomach. I wanted to reach down and curl my fingers around him, watch his mouth drop open as he sighed softly. Maybe I would have if we didn't have company.

"Most probably." I opened my lips, inviting him in. His tongue slid smoothly inside, his fingers dragging up my sides, making me shiver. I wanted him to pull me into his car and drive me to the lake.

"We've gotta go, man." Ben punched Edward on the arm. He pulled back from me, turning to his friend, a stupid grin shaping his mouth. We walked to the car; our hands curled together, our sides touching.

"We're meeting my brother in Fairfield. He's gonna drive us into the base."

"And your parents?" I wasn't worried about meeting Emmett Cullen. It was Congressman and Mrs. Cullen I was anxious about.

"Meeting us there."

I squeezed his hand tighter, liking the way he said 'us'. "Then let's go."

Angela and Ben rode in the back while I took shotgun, leaning against the soft black leather seat. Edward drove smoothly; his left hand gripping the large brown steering wheel, his right curled around my thigh. He didn't want to let go for a moment, making me shift gears for him so he could keep his hand where he wanted it. Every time our eyes caught I could feel excitement buzzing in the air; if it wasn't for Ben and Angela I swear I'd have done something I'd later regret.

When we got to Fairfield, we all clambered out. Edward and Ben hugged tightly, unafraid to show their emotions. I felt tears prick my eyes as they talked seriously to each other. Edward promised to be safe, and Ben vowed to take care of me for him.

Angela just punched me on the leg. "I'll see you back home, okay?"

I nodded, my throat too full to speak. I tried to hit her back but missed, my fist only connecting with the edge of her skirt. I reminded myself I owed her one.

Edward's brother pulled up a few minutes later. He climbed smoothly out of the car, his eyes sweeping up and down as he appraised me. I searched in vain for any sign of resemblance between the two of them, but in his expensive, dark suit, with his hair oiled and coiffed, he looked so much different, not to mention, older.

His face was almost expressionless. "Edward." He reached out and shook his brother's hand. It was such a contrast to the way Edward and Ben behaved, more formal and unbending.

"Emmett." Edward pulled his hand away first, curling it around my shoulder. "I'd like you to meet Isabella Swan."

I wondered why he felt the need to use my full name. He never had done before. I wasn't sure I liked it, the same way I didn't like it when my father called him 'lieutenant'. Those words just didn't describe the people I knew we were; to each other or anyone else.

"It's a pleasure, Isabella." Emmett took my hand and curled his fingers around, shaking lightly. His pale blue eyes met mine.

"Likewise." I shook back more firmly. It shocked him, I thought.

"We'd better hurry. Dad's got some meetings this afternoon." Emmett pulled open the door and I climbed in the back. Edward sat in the front beside him. I already missed his hand holding mine tightly. A wave of nausea hit my stomach when I realized he might not do it again for another year.

As we drove toward the gate, they made small talk about friends and acquaintances I'd never heard of. I stared at the back of Edward's head, having to sit on my hands to stop me from reaching out to touch his hairline, to run my fingers down his neck. Each second that passed seemed like I was wasting it, not being able to feel his skin. I wondered if he felt the same.

"They said there would be trouble." Emmett's voice was low as we came to a halt at the gate. The road was covered with protesters; young men with long hair and slogans scrawled across t-shirts, and younger girls with short skirts and wild hairstyles. They shouted and chanted as the car moved slowly forward, staring in through the window and homing in on Edward as soon as they saw his uniform. I glared at them, feeling anger bubbling inside me like a hot geyser, wanting to open the window and shout at them, tell them just what kind of a man Edward was.

Because he was a good man. Somebody with morals and beliefs that would put their own chants to shame.

The man I loved.

He didn't deserve their anger.

Thankfully we were through the gate in a matter of minutes, and the protesters were stopped from getting anywhere on the base itself. Emmett maneuvered the car along the concrete road, heading for the airfield on the far side of the base.

"You need to know something." He turned to look at Edward. His voice was deeper than his brother's, yet somehow harsher. It didn't caress your ears, but made you take notice. I could imagine him commanding the senate when he spoke.

"Yeah?" Edward had lowered the window and was leaning his arm on the door. The sun reflected off his sunglasses, casting a dancing ball of light onto the dashboard.

"Dad's arranged for Seattle Life to take some photos. They're running an article on your signing up to fight."

"They're what?" Suddenly, Edward's voice sounded harsher, and suddenly the family resemblance was stronger.

Emmett tapped the wheel with his hand. "Just a couple of pictures. He's up for re-election next year." He said it as if that explained it all.

"He doesn't even want me to go to Vietnam."

"You gave him lemons, he's making lemonade." Emmett's laugh was harsh. "It's the best of a bad job."

Edward's sigh was loud. "Two pictures, that's all. And leave Bella out of it."

Emmett turned to look at me. His ice-blue eyes froze me to my seat. "We will."

The airfield was teeming with soldiers, kit bags hoisted on their shoulders, caps rolled in their hands. A few had their families with them; pretty, young wives were weeping, tiny, grubby faced children were clinging. The majority were alone, having said goodbye in Wichita or Wyoming, the flight to Manila just another stage in their journey to hell.

I couldn't tell which option was better. They all looked pretty miserable.

"Over here." A voice called from the corner of the field, where an area had been cordoned off. A distinguished man with steel-grey hair was being photographed and talking to a journalist, who scribbled rapidly on a small notepad.

"Stay here, okay? This won't take long." Edward's smile was forced. "Emmett, keep an eye on her."

Emmett smirked. I looked up at him, seeing his eyes trained on my legs. I shuddered, feeling uncomfortable beneath his scrutiny. There was something about him that made me feel uneasy, reminding me a little of the frat house party I'd visited the previous fall. I would have bet my bottom dollar that Emmett Cullen had been in a fraternity when he was at college.

I inched away from him, watching as Edward shook his father's hand. The two of them posed for some photographs, then the journalist asked him some questions. I could see him getting more frustrated, as he tried to explain himself, only to be spoken over by his father.

I was beginning to understand the difficult relationship between the two of them. It was clear Congressman Cullen never listened to a word his son said.

"Edward's asked me to take you home." Emmett managed to drag his gaze from my legs. I thanked God I managed to keep my chest well covered with a high-neck—his eyes were forced to assault my face instead.

"That's very kind of you." I started to fiddle with the hem of my dress, fingers playing with the raw fabric. I stopped as soon as he began to stare at my hand.

"It's my pleasure."

I swallowed hard. The last place I wanted to be was sitting next to Emmett Cullen for an hour. He was Edward's brother, but he made me shudder worse than fish guts. "Is your wife not with you?"

"Rosalie's at home with our son. She knows her place." His smirk grew. I curled my nails into my palm to stop myself from wiping it straight off his face. Did Edward know what a douche his brother was? I'd only just met him and I wanted to grind his face into the dry, red earth.

"That sounds very 1950s." I flashed him a fake smile.

"Let's just say I'm not as open-minded as my brother." His lip curled up.

I opened my mouth to reply, but Edward's reappearance stole the words right out of my mouth.

"I'm sorry about that. You okay?" He pulled me against him. I tried to damp down my anger. I didn't want him going to war thinking I hated his family.

Even if I did.

"I'm good." Looking up into his dark green eyes, my smile was genuine. In his arms, Emmett's chauvinist remarks held about as much importance as flies to an elephant.

"Come and meet my folks." Taking my hand, he walked me over to his parents. I was relieved to see the photographer and reporter had left. His parents were standing alone, and there was a gap between them large enough to drive his car through.

"Mom, Dad, this is Bella." Edward wrapped an arm around my waist. "Bella, this is my father, Carlisle, and my mom, Esme."

Carlisle looked at me over half-moon glasses. He reached out a hand, and I shook it briefly, feeling nervous as he scrutinized me. His fingers were bony and long, but they held a strength that made me wince.

"It's a pleasure." His mother smiled, her frosted, pink lipstick stretching along with her lips. She was wearing a deep red suit with a matching pillbox hat. I wondered if she was modelling her image on Jackie Kennedy, circa 1962.

"Pleased to meet you." I gave them both a small smile. I felt like I could die of nervousness. I didn't want them to hate me.

"Edward tells me you're at Berkeley?" Carlisle patted the back of his hair. "I hear Ron Reagan put those protestors in their place."

I swallowed. "There's been some ... ah ... tension." I wasn't going to tell him exactly what I thought of the California governor. That was a discussion for another time, another place. Preferably with another person.

"If students got busy studying, maybe the country would be a better place to live," Emmett interrupted, his self-assurance starting to annoy me. I could feel my blood start to boil. I gave Edward's hip an apologetic squeeze.

"If our leaders got busy leading, perhaps we wouldn't have to protest."

Edward coughed out a laugh. His hold on me tightened, and he dipped his head to place a kiss in my hair. "And that's why I love you." His words were quiet, just enough for me to hear. I liked that they were mine to hide in my heart.

A loud call from the hard-standing area told us it was time for Edward to go. He hugged his mother tightly, wiping away her tears, then shook his father and brother's hands. Placing his cap firmly on top of his short hair he pulled me with him toward the plane, putting some space between us and his family.

Stepping in front of me, he touched me under the chin with his thumb, causing me to look up at him. His eyes looked wild, like something was fighting beneath the surface. "Life goes on, okay?" He brushed his lips against mine.

I shook my head. "Not without you."

A tear slipped out of my eye, burning my skin.

"Bella." His voice cracked. "You're a fighter. I want you to go out there and fight just as hard as I will."

I frowned, my fingers playing with his lapels. "How can I fight?"

"Work hard, speak out, protest." He leaned his forehead on mine. "I saw how awkward you were looking at those protestors outside the gate. I don't want you to feel conflicted."

From the corner of my eye, I could see soldiers climbing onto the plane. I knew we only had a few moments left. the lump in my throat made it hard to speak. "You want me to protest?"

He cupped my cheek with his palm. His skin was rough against mine. "I want you to be true to your beliefs. I'm staying true to mine."

My stomach rolled just thinking about it. I hated the war more than ever. Before my cousin died it had seemed an annoyance; something to speak out against, but not something that affected my life. Now Grady had gone, and it was stealing Edward away from me, it had grown in my mind to be an evil ogre. I wasn't sure I was strong enough to slay the giant.

"Okay." I tried to smile. "I'll stay true, if you stay safe."

"I'll do my best."

A final call. He hugged me tightly, my body molding against his chest. I cupped my hands around his face, trying to memorize the sensation of his skin against mine. My lips were wet with tears as we kissed, and we could both taste them.

"I'll write." He pulled away, eyes sparkling in the winter sun. I nodded dumbly, unable to speak. I was afraid it would come out as a sob. Misery suffused every cell of my body, strangling any semblance of hope, replacing it with darkness. With fear.

"Baby, don't cry." He reached out to stem my tears. I bit my lip hard, not wanting my weeping to be his last memory of me. With some deep breaths, I managed to compose myself enough to find my voice.

"I love you. If you don't come back safely, I'll hunt you down."

"If I don't come back, I hope you do." His breath was hot against my cheek. "I love you, too. Don't forget it."

I watched him walk toward the Pan Am airplane, destination Manila. His broad back was poker straight beneath his jacket, and I felt a stab of pride at the way he bore himself. I straightened my own spine, wiping my eyes before I turned to look at his brother.

It was time to take a ride with Emmett Cullen.

A/N - Thanks to Fran, Mid, Sparrow and Shelli for their help, and to you for reading. Chapter 15 will be up next week; same time, same place. And Edward will be gone :(

Choc xx