Chapter 28: Not One of Us

Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns Twilight


Bella's POV:

I didn't get much sleep that night even with Jacob's protective arms around me and his reassuring words. The next two days were thankfully busy, so I couldn't dwell on the threat hanging over our heads. I occupied myself by cleaning and cooking, and weeding around the plants outside. I took all the tags off my winter clothes for school, and got them all washed, along with Jacob and Michel's things.

There were still a few boxes of Jacob's personal belongings that he had shoved in the closet. I thought about going through it and putting it all away, but decided to wait, giving my guy some privacy. I didn't know whether he was ready or not to share some of his war mementoes with me.

I took a break for a little while in the afternoons. My little guy and I enjoyed running around in the back yard, and the cool weather was an added bonus. You couldn't be outside in Arizona for long until mid September and sometimes as late as October unless you wanted to be burnt to a crisp.

Jacob promised to plant more shrubs and a couple of trees in the yard this weekend. Sam Uley said he would reimburse him for the expense. I couldn't wait to see what he would bring home. I had no clue what was appropriate for the climate here in Washington, so I told Jacob to surprise me.

The next day went quickly and I was pacing in the living room, waiting for Jacob to come home. Michel was wriggling in my arms already in his pjs. "Daddy will be home soon," I told him. He bounced in excitement. It was obvious that he loved Jacob too.

It was ridiculous how love smitten I acted every time he came home from work. My heart would always beat faster when I heard his car pull into the driveway, and I'd run to the door to greet him. This night was no different with the exception that when I put Michel down, he squeezed in between us. After Jacob hugged and kissed me, Michel was trying to climb up his legs. Jacob crouched ready to pick him up when Michel reached his arms up and squealed, "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!"

Jacob stopped with his mouth gaping, and staring at my son, choked out, "Did he just say …? Hey, squirt, say that again."

Michel cocked his head, and smiling innocently, looked up at Jacob. Clear as a bell, he repeated, "Daddy home."

My tough guy scooped Michel up and clasped him to his chest. There were tears in his eyes as he peppered his little face with kisses.

Pulling me in closer for a group hug, he stammered, "I can't believe it. Bells, did you hear that? He called me Daddy."

Returning his gaze to my son, and with a look of utter tenderness, he said, "Yeah, that's right. I'm your daddy." He covered his mouth with his free hand, and a tear slid down his face.

My little guy patted Jacob's cheek, and my big guy added, "Daddy's home, Michel."


The next day, the three of us went out to the bank to get a joint checking account, then on to the MVD to get new license plates for the RAV, and finally to a jewelry store to pick out wedding rings. By that time, Michel was tuckered out, and fell asleep in his stroller.

Jacob and I decided on matching bands with three different metals, all intertwined like the weft on a basket—white and yellow gold, interspersed with copper. It seemed symbolic; our three lives being woven together forever. Jacob wanted to go with me to select a dress today too, but I was horror struck. You couldn't try on dresses with a toddler squirming around. I was surprised that Jacob would even want to go with me to shop for one. He'd be bored to death. So the next day, I dropped Michel off at Sue's and Jacob and I targeted a store specializing in formal wear—Cara Mia's.

The first four dresses I tried on were all beautiful, but when I came out of the dressing room in the fifth one, I thought Jacob's eyes would pop out of his head. He made me turn around twice, and walked up to me, admiring the outfit. Touching the fabric, he rubbed it between his fingers. Then, peering up at me, he smiled, and nodded his approval. I retraced my steps, and slipped on a couple more, and afterward, Jacob asked if I could try on the other one again. Okay, so I donned that gown for the second time.

I still had three more formals hanging on the rack, and after modeling them, he asked, "Can you put that one dress on again, you know … the one with the little ruffles and the beads?"

I complied, and was happy to see his grin and the twinkle in his eye. I'd wear this frock if it was neon, paisley print, and two sizes too big just to see his face light up like that. "I really like this one," he confirmed. No duh … Well, I liked all of them, but I guess it was no contest. This was the dress for my wedding day. Before I returned to the dressing room, Jacob shyly said, "Is there any way, you could wear that home?"

I held back a smile; he was being so sweet. "I don't want to take a chance on ruining it, Jake."

"Oh, yeah, I guess you're right," he replied, looking disappointed.

We picked out some shoes to go with it, then paid for the dress, and were on our way home. We no sooner got inside the house when he pleaded, "Hey, Bells, Do you think I could see you in that dress just one more time?"

I playfully slapped his arm. "Jacob Black, don't you know it's bad luck to see a bride in her wedding gown before the ceremony?"

There was a smirk on his lips as he replied, "I don't think you'll be in it long enough for that to happen."


That Saturday, true to his word, Jacob went with his future brother-in-law, Paul, to the nursery to purchase some trees, and a few more shrubs and plants. They used Paul's truck to pick up the load.

When they arrived, they took the pickup in the back to unload it. After finishing, the truck backed up in the driveway and Paul got out at Jacob's urging.

He was excited and breathless as he bounded up the stairs to the porch and stuck his head in the door. "Hey, Bells, there's someone here I'd like you to meet.

But, as I came outside to the front of the house, I got a cold reception from Jacob's companion. I guess cold wasn't the right word—hostile was more like it.

Gesturing with one hand toward me, Jacob touted, "Paul, I'd like you meet my fiancée, Bella."

Paul's lips were tightened into a thin line. His arms were folded across his chest. "This is Bella?" he snarled.

I looked down at my feet, away from the intimidating glare he was giving me. Michel sidled up to me at that moment, his fingers grabbing at my jeans.

Did Jacob notice the look of disdain Paul was casting my way? Uh … that would definitely be a yes. The smile on Jacob's face immediately vanished, being replaced with disbelief.

His face contorting into an ugly sneer, Paul continued, "What's the matter? You couldn't find anyone good enough for you here on the rez? You had to bring this white girl to our home—where she doesn't belong? She's not one of us, Jake."

Jacob stiffened at that remark as I felt the heat of humiliation burning a swathe across my face and neck. "Paul! That's enough. This has nothing to do with the girls that live here. I fell in love, not with a white girl, but a girl that was genuine, and sweet. And miracle of miracles, she loves me too."

With eyes narrowed, Paul snorted, "Sure, she does, you sap. What are you, blind? You're such a tool. Can't you see what's going on here? She's only using you. The cheap little slut just needed you to support her. She's even got you playing Daddy to someone else's unwanted bastard."

I saw the look in Jacob's eyes, and screamed, "Jacob—no!" It was too late. He was ready to pounce. I jumped in fright as he flew across the space between them, tearing into Paul. They were both equally matched in size, but with Jacob's training, his opponent was flailing against the seasoned combat veteran. The scuffle was over quickly, but not before there was damage done to both combatants. Paul had a split lip, and a gash over his right eye. Jacob fared better with only a welt on his cheek that was speedily turning a shade of purple.

Paul was on the ground with Jacob straddling him. He grabbed him by the collar and tugging on him, sputtered, "Don't you ever show disrespect for Bella or my son again. You hear me, Lahote?"

He dropped Paul's head back on the ground, and climbed off of him, leaving him lying in the dirt. Walking up to the porch, Jacob reached for my hand. "C'mon, Bells, let's go inside."

Appalled, I peered up at him, and asked, "You're not going to leave him there like that, are you?"

"Yes, I am," he chuckled humorlessly. "He asked for it, Bells. Anyway, he's not hurt that badly. I could have really done some serious harm if I wanted to. I held back for you. My sister wouldn't have been too happy about it either."

I pulled my hand away from him, dropping it to my side. "No, I can't let you do that. You need to bring him in the house. I'll clean him up."

"Are you serious? He insulted you, honey; and you're gonna play nursemaid to him? Jeez, you're too darn forgiving."

"It's the right thing to do. I can't let him lay there bleeding because of me. I'm sure if he had known me better, he'd never have made those comments."

Jacob sighed loudly, "Okay, you win. I hope this isn't a mistake."

Stepping back to the crumpled form, he helped Paul stand and brought him into the house, easing him onto the sofa. I handed Michel to Jacob to keep him occupied while I collected some supplies from the bathroom.

Paul eyed me suspiciously as I put all the first aid paraphernalia on top of the coffee table. The wounded guy jerked his head back as I leaned toward him with a washcloth. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he snapped at me.

"I'm trying to patch up your wounds. You're bleeding."

He flinched slightly as I dabbed at the cut above his eye, and applied some steri strips and ointment. His lip was still oozing, so I wet some small gauze squares and placing them on the area, instructed him, "Here, hold these in place while I get some ice to help with the swelling."

This time, when I returned with the ice pack, he questioned, "I don't understand you. Why are you doing this?"

Gently, I applied the ice to his lower lip, removing the gauze. I stared straight into his eyes. "You're hurt; you're bleeding. I'd feel guilty sending you home looking like you did."

I glanced over my shoulder at Jacob. He and Michel were having a snack of sliced apples and yogurt in the kitchen. "Jake, can you drive Paul home?"

Paul yelled over the top of my head. "I'm fine, I can drive myself."

My hand instinctively shot out, touching his arm. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Paul hung his head for a second, then peering up at me, nodded sheepishly. He exhaled in a long whoosh and replied, "Yeah." A tiny smile crept onto his face. He put out his hand to shake mine. "About what I said earlier—ignore it, okay? I have a really short fuse, and I was trying to protect Jake … you know. Sorry if I misjudged you. So … I'm Paul Lahote, and you must be Bella Swan, huh? Glad to meet you."

Jacob snuck up behind, and hoisted me up by the waist, drawing me against himself. He kissed the back of my neck and pillowed his head beside my ear. I couldn't see his face, but I knew in my heart he was probably grinning like a fool. He reiterated to Paul, "See, I told ya so. She's the sweetest girl on the planet.

"Hey, Paul. Tell me something—is she blushing?"

Paul winked, and crowed, "Ooh, yeah, will you look at that … and they call us redmen."

I slapped at Jacob's arm, and turned to face him. "I haven't met Rachel yet. Would it be okay if I had Paul and Rachel come over for dinner Sunday night?"

"Sure, sure, what about it, Paul?"

"I'll ask Chelle." He got up to leave.

Glancing at Jacob, I asked, "Aren't you forgetting something?"

His eyebrows came together, in concentration. "Like what?"

"Well, like … aren't you going to apologize to him?"

He actually laughed. "What for?"

Good grief, why was he acting so insensitive? It was staring him in the face. Could it be any more obvious? Flabbergasted, I chastised him, "Jake—look at him. You did that."

Shaking his head, Jacob grinned at me. "So … he got what he deserved."

Paul appeared to be amused. What was with these guys? Was he crazy too? He waved his hand, nonchalantly. "Don't worry about it, Bella. Jake's right. I was begging for a bruisin'. Anyway, my face has collided with his fist more times than I can count, and yet here I am, back for more.

"Well, I better go; I promised Chelle I'd take her to the movies this evening. And, Bella … I really am sorry."

"You better be, or I'll pound you again," Jacob taunted, straight-faced.

"Oh, yeah? You and who else?" he joked. He ran out the door, whooping, with Jacob racing behind, hot on his heels. He hopped into the truck, Jacob slammed his fist down on the hood and Paul waved at him as he pulled out onto the road.