From: Guest

:the more chapters you write the more plot holes you create...hopefully you'll address every single one of them by the end

Damn the ffn glitch that caused so many reviews to come through as Guest - especially when many of you guessed correctly.

Anyway, I will address every single one of those pesky plot holes, I promise. In the meantime I LOVE your imaginations running wild. Even the drunk murder victim's widow is suspicious because I gave her bottled red hair! And, nah, she's nobody. K?

Thank you to the wonderful Harvestward Team -Ipsita, Nic, VampyreGirl86, and SarcasticBimbo - soldiering on through the hardships and perils of real life. Appreciate you so much.

Chapter 26

Edward is an easy guest over lunch, asking Mom how she made the coating for the fish. Never one to appear like a pampered husband, Dad brags that he makes a mean fish fry, and I back up his statement. Edward praises his own father's skill in blending different types of wood to flavor meat in his smoker.

Dad keeps the questions coming, but it's not like the third degree—more like a general interest in Edward's world, and Edward doesn't hold back, happy to discuss his family, his work, and the plan to live off the grid. He doesn't say outright where I fit in, but he tells them he thinks I would embrace the life and that he believes he's found a fine piece of land. Catching a few knowing looks between Mom and Dad, I feel myself blush as Edward tells the story of how he recognized a kindred ideology in my photos, and convinced his family to hire me. Dad says I've always shown respect for the natural world, and glances at me while telling Edward he's disappointed I left the ranger service.

We've had this conversation many times, and I do miss my time as a ranger. There's no doubt that helping people find the magic in nature is fulfilling. I loved seeing Mike this week, spellbound and wearing the face of a child, but there's also something about tempting a wider audience to come and see for themselves. I know I can contribute with the right kind of photos.

While we devour Mom's delicious cake, I check the weather and see rain forecast for tomorrow, so I suggest a trip to the beach while it's still dry.

The Mariners have been losing lately, and Dad is fired up for a win against Minnesota. When I can't guarantee we'll be back for the start of the game, I look at Mom, genuinely hoping she'll join us. She stares at me as if I'm asking the impossible.

"Not the beach, darling. I'm sorry." She grabs hold of my wrist, her eyes making me understand. Rialto Beach is where we took Leo to bound around off-leash, sniffing driftwood and shells, challenging the waves. We all loved him, but he was her dog, her daily companion, and his loss hit her the hardest of all.

The drive to the beach is short, and I love seeing the rugged coastline, hearing the sound of the surf. Every one of the massive rocks I remember are still standing as they have been forever, withstanding the ravages of a winter ocean determined to erode them. The sea is calmer today, and I suck pure air into my lungs, smiling at the beach wearing its blanket of summer sand. Leo is barking somewhere in my head, but I'm not going to let it upset me and spoil this for Edward.

"It's beautiful," he declares and stretches his arms high in the breeze, as if he's filling his lungs as well.

We stand together, looking at the horizon. "It's beautiful in winter, too. Huge storms dump whole trees and logs on the sand. Gradually, people chop them up and take them away to supply heat for the next winter. This place is where I learned about seasons and the force of nature." I take his hand in mine and smile. "I'm very glad you brought me back."

I tell him about days relaxing in the sun, high school parties, and hot dogs blackened over driftwood fires, my first tentative taste of beer, a cigarette or two. When he asks if all the boys were after me, I laugh and shake my head, not wanting to advertise how awkward I felt with the opposite sex. We stroll up the beach and I point out the cliffs where we used to jump, remembering the feeling of exhilaration, but Edward stops in his tracks, letting my hand go.

"You jumped off there?" He looks so surprised it's almost insulting.

"Yeah, it was a rite of passage when we were young. We had to run to propel ourselves out far enough to hit water and not rocks." He runs a hand through his hair, still staring at the cliffs. "I wasn't always like this, you know."

"Like what?" he asks, frowning at me.

"I never used to be afraid to take a chance."

He sighs and shakes his head. "I really wish you would stop saying things like that."

I never meant to upset him, but I see sadness wash into his eyes. "Okay," is the only way I can think to respond.

Dad greets us at the door with a beaming smile. "We won!" He's obviously been drinking during the game, and Mom stands behind, rolling her eyes. There's a Mariner's player being interviewed on the screen. "I'm taking us all to the lodge for dinner."

"Kalaloch?" I inquire, and when he nods, I smile at Edward. "You'll like this."

"We should plan to leave no later than…" He looks at his watch. "Six thirty."

"Then I need to take a quick shower," Edward replies.

"I hung your shirt upstairs," Mom states, making things suddenly awkward.

"In my room?" I ask, hesitantly.

"We call it the guest room now, sweetheart," she declares, and I stare at her, too embarrassed to ask who's supposed to be sleeping there. "Hurry up, we don't want to keep his lordship waiting."

We go upstairs and find our bags in a room from a chic bed and breakfast. All my old furniture is gone, and without the desk, there is plenty of room for a queen bed. It's hard to believe the transformation. It was always a dark and pokey space, but Mom has painted the mauve walls cream, and she's replaced the purple bedding and lace curtains with a cream comforter that matches the pillows and the drapes. It's now restful and full of soft light.

Several of my favorite photos are beautifully framed on the walls. The two towels on the bed are somewhat telling, but Edward and I only glance at each other, ignoring the elephant in the room. I'm going to need to clarify this before the end of the evening.

Mom does a fine job of driving us to the lodge, and Dad is in a great mood, saying he's thrilled that I'm home. The road hugs the ocean for the last half of the journey, and every now and then, Edward squeezes my hand when we see long lines of waves approaching the dramatic expanse of beach. It's isolated and open, a perfect example of everything that's good about this part of the world.

The owner welcomes Mom and Dad with a huge smile, and he's so surprised to see me, he pulls me into a hug. Leading us to our table, he lingers to chat with my parents while I take Edward out on the deck to show him the beach and the tiny cabins we once inhabited overnight on one of our school camps. We only stay outside for a few minutes, choosing to watch the sunset from inside where the fire is roaring.

Eating out with my father has always been a good experience. He knows everyone well, and they insist on lavishing him with their best service, so it's no surprise when four cups of Pacific chowder appear while we browse the menu. Edward and I share our choices of smoked salmon, and a delicious rib-eye steak topped with crab meat. Dad devours his elk burger, leaving most of his fries under Mom's watchful eye, while she has chicken and dumplings, which she says is very good.

We give them the PG version of the whole vacation, but I boldly state that Edward stayed with me when he was attacked by mosquitoes. It has to be obvious that we're sleeping together by the time we come back from Yellowstone, but there's not a raised eyebrow between them. In fact, Dad invites Edward to go fishing in the morning. I'm slightly disappointed the invitation doesn't extend to me, but I love Dad sharing anecdotes from the times when it was just the two of us at the river, bringing back wonderful memories.

Nine years old, I was looking up at a mountain when a fish took my hook, and the sound of the reel spinning echoed all around us.

"Big fish, Bells! You remember what to do?" I looked down and moved my feet to find solid ground. Lifting the rod, bent over so far it might snap, I dug its end into my stomach and lowered it, slowly winding the handle.

It took half an hour to bring the fish into Dad's waiting net. With an enormous smile, he made out he could hardly lift it out of the water, and I laughed when he hugged me. He hadn't once tried to takeover or help.

The fish was big enough to feed us all for dinner, and we grinned at each other through every mouthful.

I can't fit in dessert, but I do enjoy a taste of Edward's New York cheesecake.

When we arrive back at the house, Dad and Edward are hanging back, quietly talking. I swing around, surprised to see him clap Edward on the back, then Dad looks at me and says, "Let's get to bed. I want him downstairs and ready by 7:00 am."

While Dad locks the front door, Edward holds out his arm for me to climb the stairs. Frowning, I wait until we're in my old bedroom to ask what they said.

"I asked him where I should sleep and he said upstairs, but he held onto my arm and warned me, 'Not under my roof, son.' I admire a man who says a lot with few words."

Laughing, I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him. "You've made this weekend a million times better than I imagined."

He smiles, pulling my hips against his. His pout is too cute when I push him away and tell him to find something to sleep in.

As soon as we're in bed, I snuggle into his side, and his hand comes to rest on my backside. Throwing my leg over him, I draw him closer, and lift my chin to kiss him goodnight.

Hitching my leg higher, he rolls toward me, the powerful heat from his groin radiating into mine.

"Do you find the idea of forbidden sex alluring?" he asks with eyes full of mischief. "You're insanely tempting right now."

A pulsing sensation between my legs is my body's honest answer. The hardness pressing against me is his, but encouraging him now will only lead to trouble when my father has been so trusting and generous and wonderful.

With a frustrated sigh, I respond, "My parents are across the hall, Edward."

He returns to his back with a long exhale. "Okay, but we should explore the idea in the future—ban sex for a while and see how we react."

I don't dare tell him the idea is titillating. "That's enough of the sex talk, mister. Go to sleep."

The boys have been gone for a couple of hours when Mom and I enjoy a lazy breakfast of French toast, Edward Cullen's way. We've just finished tidying up when Mike finally calls back.

He's currently down south, researching options for accommodations so he can extend his tours over multiple days. Admitting he's given up on the idea of camping after spending time with me, he still believes he can offer a unique Washington experience, and I genuinely wish him luck.

"What did you call me for, Bella?"

"You said you would let me know who hired you." I walk outside to talk in private and sit on the walls of the now square veggie patch.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry, I haven't been able to find where I wrote it down."

This reluctance is beginning to irritate me, so I don't beat around the bush.

"How do you know James Hunter?"

Without hesitation, he answers, "I've never heard of him. Who is he?"

He sounds genuine, so I hit him with another question. "How about Aro Volturi?"

"Who?"

In anger, I snap at him. "Mike, tell me who hired you to be my guide!"

He pauses for the longest moment, as if he's measuring his response. "I wasn't hired, as such."

Now there's an answer I wasn't expecting.

"I don't get it."

"It was offered as a week's training in the outdoors."

"Who set that up?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes it matters. You were supposed to be looking after me, not the other way around, and I had no knowledge of that area." He goes quiet, so I give him a little incentive. "Do I have to get my father involved? I haven't said anything yet, but I will if I have to."

He exhales before he answers. "It was Jake. He told me he needed me—said he owed someone a favor."

"Jake?" My brain scrambles, trying to introduce Jake into the equation. I'm almost certain James was behind this, but now nothing makes sense. The only time I know those two met was years ago when Jake threatened James to stay away from me. "Did he tell you who the someone was?"

"No."

"Why you, Mike? You two were never friends."

"He's the local cop now, so..."

Looking inside, I see Mom sitting at the dining table, and I get up to wander further into the yard. "What does that mean? You didn't have a choice in the matter?"

"Surely you're not naive, Bella. In a town of this size, if a cop asks you to do something, you do it."

I can't get into this with Mike. How Jake operates within the community comes under my father's control, but he has no right to intrude in my life and engineer events to suit himself. That shit stops right now.

"Okay, Mike. I appreciate you being candid."

"I never meant to hinder you or put you in danger. The phones—God, I'm so sorry."

I'm just glad my instincts were right, because I felt strongly that Mike had been used. "I know you didn't. Anyway, it wasn't so bad was it?"

He chuckles. "No, it was educational—just what I needed."

"By the way, did you tell Jake about Edward?"

"Yeah, I did. Was that a secret? You two were pretty...cozy together."

"No, it's fine. I just needed to know how he found out. Thanks for calling back, and good luck with the research."

"Yeah, good luck to you, too, Bella."

Ending the call, my brain explodes with questions. Without waiting, I pull up Jake's number and call.

"What?" The hostility comes across in a single word.

"I need to get your keys to the house, and I have some of your things in my car."

"I'll be home until lunch."

"Great. See you in half an hour."

Then he asks, "Are you bringing him with you?"

"No, he went fishing with Dad."

He snorts and ends the call. While I'm eager to learn how Jake is connected to James, he needs to stay out of my life. After all the soul-searching and rivers of tears, I no longer care for him, and now there's no reason for us to see each other again.

"More coffee?" Mom asks when I come back inside.

"No, I just got off the phone with Jake. I'm picking up his keys to the house, and I have stuff of his to drop off."

"Do you want me to come with you?" she asks with a look of concern.

For a second I consider the offer, but Jake won't be himself in her presence, and I need him raw and honest for this conversation.

I shake my head and kiss her cheek. "I won't be long."

The sky is dark and rumbling when I turn onto their lane, and Billy Black's house is just as run-down as the last time I was here. There's not a blade of grass out front, part of the porch roof hangs down, the gutters are rusty, and the garage door is open. Jake is building bikes again.

I know the community stepped in and helped Billy while Jake lived in Seattle, but seeing this neglect makes me furious. Jake was coming back all the time, and he could have arranged some basic maintenance. Hindsight is a wonderful thing, but this dilapidated house and the way they live should have been a red flag when I was deciding to marry him.

The screen door sticks, and Jake puts his shoulder against it. I choose not to inflame him by commenting on the state of the property. He comes out, looking at the ominous sky and leans down to the window, placing the keys in my hand. "So what did you bring me?"

"I need to talk to you first."

"If this is about yesterday, I'm not sorry. That poor joker needs to know what he's getting."

God, he's just an asshole, and it feels good to ignore words that can no longer hurt me.

"It's about Mike Newton, actually."

He stands and scratches his neck. "What about him?"

"I just spent the last week with him."

"Well, I'll bet that was fun," he replies sarcastically.

"Jake, I know you substituted him for Peter, and I've come here to find out why."

First, he narrows his eyes, then shrugs as if my accusation is insignificant. "One of my friends needed a ranger urgently, and I owed him a favor. He asked me to step in for Peter, but I knew you'd never go along with that. Mike was happy to go, actually."

"What friend?"

"A cop. No one you would know."

I just stare at my ex-husband, so blatantly deceiving me.

"What kind of favor?"

"What?"

"You said you owed him a favor."

"Did I?" He shrugs again. "I can't remember what it was."

"You're a shitty liar, Jake. I know it was James Hunter."

Caught in the act, the look he gives me is full of contempt. "So what? I know you can take care of yourself in a national park."

It's starting to rain, but this reeks of James' brand of petty payback, and I'm not letting him go anywhere until I know what happened.

"What kind of favor could you owe someone like James Hunter?"

"I saw an opportunity and took it." I raise my eyebrows and wait for him to elaborate. Over the years, I've heard stories of cops on the take, and I'm not stupid enough to believe Jake hasn't experienced his share of temptation.

"You were already drifting away when you started working for his agency. You never seemed to have time for me anymore, so when you told me he made a move on you, I confronted him. He said he never intended to scare you, that he was just having fun with a pretty girl, and I...I might have exploded a little. He pleaded with me, saying you had never mentioned a boyfriend, and promised to do whatever it took to make it right."

"What?" I get out of the car, livid, with bulging eyes and my mouth hanging open. I'm getting soaked, but I need to hear all of this now. "You told me this story before, but it wasn't quite the same, was it?"

"Same result," he responds callously. "I told you I threatened him, and you believed he cut your hours out of spite."

The enormity of what he did starts to sink in. "You destroyed my career! Why would you do that to me?" I screech over the sound of the rain.

"I needed you dependent on me."

"Why?"

"I wanted you to come home and live on Quileute land as the wife of the future chief."

"We were just friends then. You never discussed that with me."

"Well, I couldn't find a way to make you go home, could I? Then you lined up different work, tying you to Seattle, so I gave you what I thought you wanted: security, a house, and the potential of family."

"You said that was your plan, too."

He snorts. "Seattle was only a temporary plan, Bella. I knew once we had a child, you would want to be close to your mother and come home to La Push."

"La Push was never my home."

"It was for a time."

"Only while I was terrified of those strangers in Forks."

He pushes his wet hair off his face and laughs. "Those men weren't going to harm the daughter of the chief of police. They were purely sent to spook you. I heard them talking while you walked up the street. You were never in danger."

I have to wipe my eyes and the water dripping off my nose and jaw. "You told my father you feared for my life!"

"No, I told him you feared for your life, and it worked. He knew I could keep you safe."

I pace back and forth, trying to disassemble what I thought had happened at the time.

"You were manipulating me and my father?"

"When Leo was killed, he asked me to take you away for a couple of days to clear your head. We weren't supposed to end up at Mount Rainier with you taking a job as a ranger!"

"You should have just walked away then."

"No, I had been in love with you for as long as I could remember, and I wanted you for my wife!"

"You know nothing about love! God, I wish I had listened to Tyler! He tried to warn me about you!"

"That abomination. Why would you take advice from his kind?"

I just look at him, appalled. "I should have, then I wouldn't have become your slave!"

"I gave you everything, and you turned your back on me in bed!"

It would be so easy to belittle him and say he could to learn a thing or two about seduction, but we're just rehashing old arguments. He'll never understand why his kind of marriage did nothing for me, or how our inability to connect emotionally drove me away. Pulling my fingers through my hair, I open the back of the car, angry and drained. "Is Leah pregnant yet?"

"Apparently," he answers with a hint of remorse.

"So, you got everything you wanted."

"Bella...I never cheated on you."

"Oh, yeah. You're a fucking saint, Jake." I grab a bundle of clothes and fling them into the mud, then another and another. Picking up the shoes I gave him, I toss them as far as I can.

Starting the car, I turn around and enjoy the brief thrill of driving over his clothes before I speed off, but I have to pull over when I can't see the road through my tears and the rain. I try to calm myself, but my mind refuses to let go. Wondering if I ever knew the real Jake, I feel used and stupid, so unworthy of someone like Edward.

How will I face him, knowing how pathetic I am? How can I tell my father? He'll never forgive himself for mentoring someone like Jake and supporting his quest to marry me.

Soaked to the bone, I shiver, waiting for the heater to kick in, and battle with emotions I've never felt before. So, this is hate. I hate Jake for the years he took from me, and I hate myself even more for allowing it. Maybe this a heart breaking forever, or what they call rock bottom, but I'm sure I could sink even further and never come up.

If I go back in this state, all hell will break loose. Close to imploding, I know I won't cope with the retelling, so I turn the car toward the coast.

Thank you for reading xo

Please be patient with me. I need another break, 'cause I'm going on vacation, staying with my son, so I won't be back for a couple of weeks.