A/N: thank you all so much for all the reviews. I promised to write/post faster, so here goes. It is a bit of a bridge to the next bit of action... Enjoy!

We were all afraid of how Emmett would react if he ever came across the smell of a human. So far we'd managed to keep him close to home by driving animals into the shed, where we'd trap them for Emmett to "hunt." But the animals were small, and Emmett was impatient, with a great thirst. He wanted to be let loose to test his skills.

After a few weeks we began to relax a bit. With the onset of winter, we'd become even more isolated – no humans had set upon our threshold for months. Emmett himself had been very obedient and had quickly learned to contain his strength after wrecking several pieces of Esme's prized furniture. More surprisingly, he'd shown himself to have a keen mind capable of great self-discipline, rapidly going through the volumes in Carlisle's library. When something was beyond him he didn't get frustrated -- he'd simply consult a dictionary or pin one of us down for as long as he could to get an answer.

Carlisle was delighted to have a new victim on whom he could inflict his enthusiasms – dragging Emmett through the illustrations of the new "artificial heart" his Science magazine described and engaging him in spirited debates about whether giving laborers the right to unionize, along with the formation of the WPA, were the country's first steps toward Socialism.

The wireless was always turned on then, as events in Europe had captured Carlisle's attention. He was obviously concerned for the places he'd once known as home; his unease had only heightened over the year as month after month brought new changes to the Continent. I had not paid any attention when Hitler had ordered re-armament and mandatory conscription in the spring. I'd showed perfunctory sympathy for Carlisle's distress when Mussolini invaded Ethiopia; it seemed but a distant event that had no bearing on us. But when Hitler stripped the Jews of their German citizenship in November, Carlisle had almost been unable to contain himself, wearing a path across his study floor as he paced, trying to divine from the snippets of news what would happen next. He was so visibly disturbed it was hard not to take notice.

"Britain's naval treaty with Germany will only embolden Hitler," Carlisle had mused that night, talking back to the wireless set. "Why can't anyone see that? He must be stopped."

Esme had held Carlisle's hand and looked beseechingly at Emmett. It was at moments like these that Emmett was at his best. He'd do something deliberately annoying to provoke Edward into a wrestling match, or sit back in his chair to begin a long yarn – usually one originally told to him by his dear Granny – captivating us with his silly voices and animated expressions. Soon, Carlisle would be laughing out loud and the looming problems in Europe would be forgotten.

Whether it was watching Emmett master the etiquette lessons Esme gently laid out for him, hearing him debate the finer points of President Roosevelt's Social Security act with Edward, or seeing him distract Carlisle when Carlisle was distraught, I was proud to see how quickly he progressed and how naturally he seemed to carve out his place among us.

Of course, I only observed these things from afar, for I was doing everything possible to stay out of Emmett's way.

All I had to do was think of him and a slow heat would start to spread through my body. For the first time in my life, I felt tongue-tied and awkward around a man. And even though he seemed interested – more than interested – I couldn't bring myself to accept his attention. Deep down, I lived in deathly fear of being mocked, of being humiliated, of losing the one thing I still treasured more than anything else: my self-control.

I had gone through too much to ever let myself be vulnerable to a man, even one like him.

And I knew I would lose control if I let him get too close to me. If I'd needed any proof, I'd gotten it the last time he'd trapped me in the narrow hallway leading from the kitchen. He'd reached his massive arm across the hall, blocking my way, his red eyes twinkling.

"I was wonderin' if I could ask you something, Rosey," he'd breathed, and my knees went weak.

"What's that?" I whispered back, unable to drag my eyes from his face.

He reached up and tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear. I trembled at the touch of his finger and backed against the wall for support.

"Would you mind if I asked you to be the one to take me on my first real hunt?" His tone was honey smooth as he moved his hand down to my shoulder, leaning in even closer to me. My whole body pulsed with energy; it was almost as if I could feel the length of him pressed up against me.

"I might need your steady hand, if what Edward tells me is true. I'm afraid he thinks I may be hard to handle. And from what I hear, you have quite a bit of self-discipline about you. It may do me some good."

I gulped, unable to speak.

He chuckled quietly. "You don't have to answer me now. You just think on it. I'm not goin' anywhere."

And with that he disappeared, leaving me trembling in the hall, trying to regain my composure.

I was satisfied now that he really didn't need me to protect him. There was no risk of discovery anymore – the evidence of his encounter with the bear had been sufficient to convince his family he was dead. They mourned him, but accepted his harsh fate as just another consequence of the rough mountain life they led. And as for him, he'd adapted to our lifestyle with great ease and seemed quite at home with the others. He was whip smart; any limitations that his impoverished upbringing had set upon him would soon fall away under Esme's and Carlisle's guidance. Then he would be indistinguishable from the rest of us.

All I had to do was wait for them to complete their move out West and he would likely go with them, leaving me alone, just like I wanted.

So I watched from afar: avoiding him as much as I could; marveling at his adaptability; wondering about the pull – maternal and otherwise – he seemed to have on me; and secretly storing away the little memories I would have of him when he left, like a squirrel hoarding nuts for the cold winter ahead.

I did not think anything would disrupt the tidy ending I'd envisioned to our acquaintance. But then, I did not foresee what would happen on that first real hunt.