Note: I'm sorry for the delay in posting this. I was traveling all last week so didn't have consistent access to my account. I should be back on a regular posting schedule from her on out. Thanks for your patience!

While Bella slept, I wrote a long letter to Carlisle. My previous missive had been succinct, simply conveying that I was faring better. However, this communication was much more extensive, as my jubilation seemed to flow from my heart and mind directly onto the page. My discovery about my feelings for Bella was certainly cause enough for elation, but in addition I now knew that I could practice medicine again. My joy knew no bounds.

I explained how I had discovered Bella unconscious and had attended her for several precarious days, finally assisting her to a full recovery. I shared my news about the disappearance of my gift and my intention to begin practicing medicine again. I described the small town of Madras and relayed the sad tale of Bella's father to emphasize the need for my skills in this remote area. I suspected that Carlisle would prefer me to err on the side of caution, perhaps returning to St. Paul to spend some time with him and Esme before I began practicing again. He would want to ensure that I was truly healed, that I was ready to undertake the tasks that had broken me before.

But I knew I would not venture further from Bella than a day's journey would require. I assured Carlisle that I was well, and told him that I would welcome a visit from him should he wish to see me.

I described Bella in some detail, but I refrained from an overt statement about her new-found discovery concerning my nature . It was imprudent to reveal this information blatantly. In the end, I simply said that she was compassionate, perceptive, very clever, and absolutely lovely. If Carlisle wished to read more into the words, he was free to do so.

I sent my love to Esme and thanked both her and Carlisle again for the love and care they had provided to me. My gratitude to Carlisle extended to his wisdom in choosing this isolated part of the country for my retreat; this was now the only place I wished to be.

I sealed the letter and addressed it. In the morning I planned to go into town to mail it, as well as to pick up some items that Bella needed. Thoroughly content, I returned to her room to sit beside her as she slept.

I prepared breakfast again in the morning, and Bella ate a good portion of her meal. As she drank her tea, I told her that I intended to go to Madras to post my letter and purchase a few items.

"Would you like to make a grocery list?" I asked.

"I don't think there's much I need," she replied, "but Callie is nearly out of oats."

"All right. But surely you need things, too? You haven't much food in your root cellar."

"I think I have enough," she said, a flush spreading over her creamy cheeks.

"You need to build up your strength, Bella. You were very ill, and you're still weak. A nutritious diet is important."

"I… I guess I didn't think much about it before," she admitted. "I didn't have much of an appetite after my father was gone."

I placed my hand upon hers. "I understand. But I want you to get well, to be healthy." A little smile tugged at my lips. "Do I have to watch over your every meal? Because I will…"

She gave a small shake of her head, and her fingers curled around mine. "When do you plan to go back home?" she asked.

Honestly, I had not thought of it. That small, lonely structure held no appeal to me now. However, propriety dictated that I return eventually. While Bella was ill and I was attending her, my presence in her home was acceptable. Once she was fully recovered, though, I could no longer remain here, at least not around the clock.

"I want to be certain you're completely well," I finally replied.

She smiled. "I may need another day or two…"

"I'll stay as long as you wish," I said.

The prospect of leaving her for a few hours was difficult enough; the thought of being away for an entire day was almost unbearable. I would not stop watching over her, and I hoped that she would accept me as a frequent visitor in her home.

I departed for town after breakfast, certain to don my jacket and hat. While the sky was cloudy, the sun could emerge at a moment's notice. I had gloves in my pocket, so I would be prepared for any eventuality.

Bella had insisted on pressing a few coins into my hand for the oats and grocery items, taking them from a small, light purse. I knew she had very little money and vowed to provide her with everything she needed and desired.

When I entered the mercantile, Mrs. Weber remembered me immediately and asked about Bella. I said she was well, deciding it was not my place to share personal details about her with others. I purchased the items she had requested, as well as quite a few that I decided she required, then I told Mrs. Weber I would return soon. I had another errand to accomplish.

I found the livery easily and inquired about buying a horse. The proprietor showed me several geldings, and I selected one that appeared strong yet gentle. The roan would easily be able to pull Bella's small carriage. He shied away from me at first, but I spoke quietly to him, and after a few minutes he permitted me to take his bridle and lead him around the stable.

"He'll do fine," I told the owner.

He appeared happy to make the sale, particularly when I pulled several crisp bills from my pocket. He snatched them from me and told me he would be glad to do business with me at any time.

I led my new purchase back to the store, where I arranged my bags over his back. He snorted and whinnied a few times, but his nature was calm and he did not balk at this small chore he'd been given.

As I was preparing to leave, Mrs. Weber came out with another customer, whom she bid farewell.

"Please give Bella my warmest regards," she said to me, "and would you also give her this for me?" She held a small paper bag in her hand. "It's licorice. It's always been one of her favorites."

I smiled at the kind gesture as I reached for the bag. "Thank you."

My fingers brushed against her hand as I took it, and a dull throb tapped at my right temple. I pulled my hand back quickly.

"Are you…" I stammered. "Are you well?"

"Hmm? Oh yes, Mr. Cullen, I'm fine." A blush spread over her cheeks.

"Forgive me, but you looked a bit pale," I probed rather inelegantly.

She lifted her hand and rubbed at her right temple. "It's just a little headache, but it's nothing serious. It was very kind of you to notice. Thank you."

"I hope you feel better," I said, controlling my urge to sprint away. "Good day." My final words were curt.

I kept my steps steady as I led the horse out of town, but once we were away from the settlement, I began to walk quite briskly. The horse trotted along at my side. My thoughts were racing, and a touch of panic was beginning to creep over me. I had felt Mrs. Weber's discomfort… a minor headache, just a twinge of pain. Yet in all the time I had spent with Bella—while her wound was badly infected, while she suffered through a high fever—I had felt nothing. It made no sense to me. I tried to calm myself and think through the conundrum rationally.

Perhaps I had sensed something in Mrs. Weber's demeanor, some vague sign that she felt slightly ill. I had heard her heartbeat, of course, though I had not consciously registered it. Humans' hearts typically beat faster when they were in pain. Maybe that had alerted me at a subconscious level… Or it may have been something in her expression, a small tightening of her brow or the slight squint of her eyes.

I felt a bit more composed by the time I reached Bella's house. I led the horse toward the barn, removing the bags he had so obligingly carried.

"Oh!" Bella's surprised cry made me spin around.

She stood on the porch, a hand pressed over her chest.

"Edward! You bought a horse!"

She came toward me, and I hurried to intercept her, taking her arm in case she needed support.

"I can't take you for a ride in your carriage without him," I said.

"My carriage… He's, he's not for me?"

Her expression clearly showed me that such a gesture would both embarrass and humiliate her. Trying to gather my still slightly jumbled thoughts, I said, "Really, he's for me. However, I have no proper facilities for a horse, and I've never owned an animal before. So I would be very grateful if you would take care of him for me. In return, I offer him to you whenever you wish. You'll be able to ride out to see me if you like, and you'll have a way to get to town whenever you need supplies."

I felt certain that she knew precisely what I was up to, but she had the graciousness to simply smile and say, "Of course, Edward. It would be my pleasure."

She rubbed at the animal's velvety nose, and he nuzzled her hand. This was clearly a lovely match.

"I'll just take these inside," I said, lifting two of the parcels.

Bella spent a few minutes with the horse, speaking softly to it then taking it into the barn. When she joined me in the house, I was putting away the groceries and still ruminating over the incident with Mrs. Weber.

"What's wrong, Edward?" Bella asked.

I looked up at her. "Probably nothing…"

She reached for my hand, taking it gently in a gesture of encouragement. "Tell me," she urged softly.

I touched the small paper bag on the table. "Mrs. Weber sent this for you; it's licorice. She said you always liked it as a child."

Bella smiled. "I did. I still do. That was very nice of her. She's always had such a kind heart."

I nodded rather woodenly. "Yes. But when she handed the bag to me, our fingers touched for a moment, and I thought… I'm not sure, really, it could simply have been my imagination… but for an instant I felt an ache in my temple. And when I asked if she was well, she told me she had a headache."

Bella lifted our joined hands. "But you don't feel anything now?"

I shook my head. "No." Then, worriedly, I asked, "Are you in pain?"

"My leg still hurts a little. Walking out to the barn and back caused a twinge. Wouldn't you be able to feel that?"

"Yes, I should." I tightened my grip on her hand slightly. "But I don't feel anything in my leg. Everything seems fine."

"Then what do you think happened with Angela?" she questioned.

"It's possible that I imagined the sensation. There are many subtle cues to pain—increased heartrate and perspiration, muscular tightness, even dilation of the pupils. I may have picked up on some of those without being aware of it consciously."

She nodded. "You said your imagination was quite vivid even before you developed your gift. Maybe it was just a return to your former abilities."

"It must have been," I agreed. There was no other logical explanation.

Bella smiled and reached up to rest her hand over my cheek. "So you're all right."

"When I'm with you, I feel wonderful."

Her cheeks were very pink as she replied, "I feel the same way, Edward."

I kissed her hand then encouraged her to sit. "I want to take a look at your leg," I explained.

"It's fine. Really, it feels so much better than it did even yesterday."

"All the same…"

She did not argue with me, but she gave a little resigned sigh as she adjusted her skirt to expose her leg. I noticed that she had put on a simple skirt and blouse, but she only wore a pair of thick socks on her feet.

I washed my hands then knelt before her to unwrap the bandage. I checked the wound and surrounding area for swelling and any renewed signs of infection, but I found nothing worrisome.

"It looks fine," I reported. "But it's important that you don't overexert yourself."

I cleaned the wound and applied a fresh bandage. Goosebumps rose on Bella's fair skin several times when I touched her, and I determined to warm my hands the next time I examined her.

As I finished with the dressing, I looked up at her. She was watching me, her expression serene.

"Thank you," she murmured, her cheeks still quite rosy.

"You're welcome."

I pulled the other chair around so that I could sit before her. There was something I had wanted to discuss with her, and this felt like a good time. She was calm and comfortable, and she trusted me.

"Bella," I began, taking her hands in mine, "would you tell me about injuring yourself?"

Her expression showed that she was not expecting this particular question. She did not reply for several seconds. Finally she spoke, her gaze darting away.

"You know it was from the old window pane," she began. "I dropped it as I was removing it from the frame. Sometimes I can be a little clumsy… "

She was blushing again. I kept her hands in mine, rubbing my thumbs lightly over her fingers.

"It began bleeding immediately," she continued, the color abruptly draining from her face. She took a breath. "And you know how I react to… that."

"What did you do?" I pressed gently.

"Um… well, I think I might have fainted for a minute or two, but I managed not to throw up."

"Oh Bella—"

She shrugged. "It's ridiculous, I know."

"No, not at all. I'm just sorry you had to go through that alone."

"Mmm. I had no idea that an excellent doctor was my neighbor… and even if I had, there wasn't any way for me to contact you."

I was about to apologize again, but she shook her head. "Edward, it's all right. Is that what you wanted know?"

"Actually, I already knew how the injury occurred…" I felt hesitant to speak my thoughts but knew I needed to do so.

"Then what else do you want me to tell you?"

"What were you thinking? When it was clear that the wound was infected and you were ill, why didn't you ask for my help the day I brought you the blanket?"

"I barely knew you…"

"But you could have asked me to fetch Mrs. Weber or someone else," I protested mildly.

"I…" Now a hint of color was returning to her cheeks. "I suppose I wasn't thinking very clearly."

"Of course. You were feverish. But didn't you realize that the wound needed attention, that it was making you ill?"

"I tried to take care of it," she said haltingly. "But the blood… It was very difficult."

She had not yet returned her gaze to me.

It was time to voice my suspicions, albeit as kindly as I could. "Bella, did you not want to get well?"

Now her eyes moved to my face, her mouth slightly agape. "What… what do you mean?"

"Precisely what I said," I replied, my gentle tone belying the gravity of my words. "I'm concerned that you believed you shouldn't try to get better—that maybe on some level you felt you didn't deserve it."

Tears filled her eyes. "Maybe," she admitted, "a little."

"And now, Bella? How do you feel now?"

"Glad," she replied immediately, "and grateful. I'm so glad you found me, and so grateful that you took care of me and made me well. And you helped me to understand that what happened to my father wasn't something I could have prevented, at least not in the circumstances I was given. I'm truly happy to be alive."

Tears ran down her cheeks. I brushed them away then drew her into my arms, telling her, "That is all I need to know."

To be continued...