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Playlist: Track 24-28

Chapter VIII: Ranch

He poured another bowl of cold water over his back, the water cascading down it like a waterfall, cooling his hot skin and cleaning away the dust and dirt of the last months of traveling. Edward scrubbed his skin, wanting to remove every last speck of dirt, an absent expression on his face as his thoughts intermingled into a strange mess.

The water splashed as he moved in the tub, the sound melting together with the call of a crow in the distance. The wind howled through the opened window to his left, a mesh covering the opening to stop any insects from entering the small room. The soap fell into the water with a plop as Edward regarded his reflection in the rippling water, uncertain of the man that looked back at him. The image wasn't clear, but he was certain that the unkempt face looking back couldn't be his own. His green eyes trailed to the window, watching the mesh be gently pushed in and out by the wind, his skin turning to gooseflesh when a strong gust pushed into the room.

At first, he had barely had any time to register his surroundings as he and Jacob were led into one of the adjoining houses to freshen up. A set of shears and fresh clothes were waiting for him on a small stool next to the wooden tub.

A knock sounded on the door.

Edward didn't answer as the handle turned. He picked up the small bar of soap and set on scrubbing his left shoulder.

"I've had girlfriends wash up quicker than you have," he heard Jacob say as he shut the door behind him.

Edward rolled his eyes. "What do you want?" he asked.

"That guy is waiting outside with some of his men."

Edward rinsed his back and placed the soap on the stool next to the tub. He picked up the shears and started cutting his unruly locks with little ceremony. Barely two strands had fallen into the water before he stopped.

He could hear Jacob lean against the door, watching Edward's tense back. A question hung unspoken in the air, a question that had been with them ever since Eagle Pass.

"When…exactly?"

"1840's… I think," Edward mumbled. He clenched his jaw and squeezed the handle of the shears.

If they could jump through time with the RHD, it meant Michael Masen and Dr. Jones also could. It didn't matter when or where Edward and Jacob searched for them, it was like finding a needle in a haystack. And the worst part was that the interface was broken. They didn't know if their next jump would even bring them home as they had previously thought.

Both had agreed to stay and hear Mr. Hale out. They were comforted by the fact that they had the RHD and could return at any time, but the news of someone named Michael Masen having been seen prompted them to explore further.

Edward started cutting his hair again with an air of resignation. Everything he had once believed, about himself, his uncle, was slowly waning away. Both Edward and Jacob knew they couldn't return to the present before they discovered why Michael had returned after Dr. Jones and if he already knew that he could jump through time with the device and why he had left Edward and Jacob stranded in 1190.

"Think your uncle knew we'd end up here?" Jacob asked as another strand of hair fell into the water.

"I don't know," Edward muttered, looking out the opened window. The clouds drifted by lazily, the jumbled thoughts in his mind already bringing forth a headache. "Does it matter?"

"No…well… I don't know," Jacob answered. He bit his lip and sighed. "I just have so many questions."

Edward put down the shears and ran a hand through his now short hair and stood up as Jacob handed him a towel. Edward stepped out of the tub and looked at the clothes waiting for him. Cutting his hair and taking a bath was like ridding himself of a layer of skin—the layer he had been in 1190.

Edward looked up at Jacob. "He left us stranded, Jacob. Whatever his reason, nothing can forgive that." Edward paused. "I've already forgiven him once too many."

…

Edward stepped into the house. Everything was impeccable, the furniture neat and the house tidy. A mask of perfection.

Uncle Mike hadn't been at his Bachelor's diploma ceremony and much like his high school graduation, he had not expected him to. Edward had received his degree—a Bachelor's Degree in Medieval European History— with honors. But there was no rest, at age 22, came his next academic step—yet another degree at another prestigious university. He had gotten into Oxford, as was expected of him. Everything Mike had demanded of him had come true.

Yet, despite his many efforts, it was never enough. Edward felt he was never enough.

He stalked through the desolate hallways of the house. He should be celebrating with friends and family. Despite it all, he was back here, all alone, a hollowness extending within him. He knew where Mike was—where he always kept. To his study.

Edward knocked on the door, swallowing the building spittle several times, stifling his nervous jittery hands as his gaze darted about. There was no invitation to enter, yet he did after a while.

He closed the door after himself as he had been told to. Mike was overlooking something on his laptop, too busy to look up, the half-moon glasses halfway down his nose.

Edward waited patiently as Mike finished writing, waited before Mike acknowledged him. It took a while before Mike looked up.

"Oh, you're here," he muttered. Both knew it was a lie, both knew Mike had known Edward was in the house from the moment he'd knocked on Mike's door. "How was the ceremony?" There was a lack of enthusiasm in Mike's voice.

"G-Good…l-lots o-of p-p-parents t-t-there," Edward stammered. It had gotten worse through the years. Mike had thrown dozens of speech therapists at him, none of them being able to completely rid him of his speech impediment.

"Hope you weren't stammering as bad during your speech," Mike muttered, tapping away at the keyboard.

Edward's lips pressed together as he looked down at the floor.

Mike cleared his throat. "Well, I suppose congratulations are in order," he said though the words did not appear genuine, as if he was forcing himself to say them.

"I g-graduated b-best in my c-class… best in my year—"

"That's great, Edward," Mike cut him off, his eyes never leaving the screen.

"I-I'll t-t-try b-b-bet… b-better in O-Oxf-ford," he stammered.

Mike wrinkled his nose as he read something, monetarily forgetting Edward until he looked up again. "I'm sure you will," he sighed.

Edward clenched his jaw and fists, feeling his eyes pool. Despite his best efforts, some stray tears escaped Edward. Maybe Mike was disappointed because he had only gotten a B in one course. It had been a difficult course in medieval liturgy. Despite his best efforts, the A had escaped him.

"T-The l-l-it-turgy c-c-cours-s-se—"

Mike pinched the bridge of his nose with a frown. "It's fine, Edward," Mike cut him off. "You can go."

Edward's eyes were wide. Being dismissed as he had for the past years was worse than when his uncle at least still gave a damn about him and what he did. The neglect was eating Edward up. He wanted a reaction—anything besides what he was getting now.

"A-All I-I w-want is t-to m-make you p-p-proud," Edward whispered.

Mike looked away as if disgusted by Edward's words. He turned around. "I'm busy," he murmured. "We'll talk…later."

Edward left without a word, closing the door after himself.

…

Jacob had never seen such a degree of subdued pain displayed in Edward. What surprised him more, however, was the strange unwavering tone and the calm force behind his words.

"Betrayal hurts," Jacob nodded. "Even more so when it is from your own blood." On the ship leaving Marseille, Edward hadn't mentioned his uncle or barely given him much thought—at least not visibly. Maybe discovering that they might see him again had rekindled the feeling of betrayal Edward had felt when Michael Masen had stranded them.

Edward looked down as the water dripped from his short hair.

"I'll wait outside," Jacob said, leaving before Edward could answer. Edward looked out the window again, frowning and letting a small sigh escape him. This was bigger than his anger toward Uncle Mike, he thought reluctantly.

Edward went to pick up the dark blue shirt and maroon pants, putting them on, happy to once more wear something that had buttons. He put on the boots and vest and then tied a black scarf around his neck to protect against the sun. He secured a leather belt around his waist and last came the black wide-brim hat.

Edward stepped out of the room and got a raised eyebrow from Jacob.

"Where is Mr. Hale?" asked Edward as he placed on the hat.

Jacob led the way out of the house and onto the small courtyard where Jasper Hale sat in the shadow of a veranda, speaking with some of his men. They turned their attention to Edward and Jacob as they swiftly approached.

"Seems a good bath and some fresh clothes have made folks out of you," Jasper smiled.

"We're in your debt, Mr. Hale," Jacob nodded.

Jasper made a gesturing motion, showing two empty chairs for them to sit in as one of the other men poured some amber liquid into two crystal glasses.

"Before anythin' else, I'd like to hear your story and what you're plannin' on doin' here and why Randy sent you."

Edward pushed the hat back. "Fair enough," he sighed. Without a word, or consulting Jacob, he sat down and accepted the glass. Jacob followed suit.

Edward took a sip. It was whiskey, the smoothest he'd ever tasted with a smokey undertone that left a pleasant aftertaste.

"That's some fine whiskey, Mr. Hale," Jacob smiled, taking another—larger—sip.

"What I'm interested in, gentlemen, is why y'all came to be here on my ranch lookin' like you did, sent by none other than Randy from Eagle Pass." Jasper seemed suspicious.

Edward shrugged and settled on telling Jasper the same story he had told Ferris and his men at Eagle Pass, that they had traveled from the north and been robbed, that he and Jacob had wandered around the desert for a long time without finding anyone until they eventually found Eagle Pass. Ferris and his men believed they came from across the border and so became suspicious of them. He told of how Jacob and Randy had gotten them out and how, as a thank you for saving Randy, he had told them to come here for shelter until they figured out what came next.

"Your brother mentioned that he had heard that my uncle, Michael Masen, has passed by here?" Edward asked.

Jasper took a long and thorough swig of his own glass. When he was done, he placed the cup on the table and let a poignant pause speak for itself before looking up at Edward with a raised eyebrow and a smile. "Your uncle certainly knows how to make an impression."

"Then he has passed by here?"

Jasper nodded. "He came by here not six months ago," he said. "And prior to that, we saw him last spring in town. He spent less than a week, but people were speaking of him for the following months to come."

One of the other men, Marcus, chuckled in unison. It was hard to discern his smile beneath the thick and unruly mustache were it not for the dimples in his cheeks. "Never met a more charmin' man. Had the ladies in line for him." He leaned forward. "No offense to you, Mr. Masen, but I don't trust fellows that are that charmin'."

Jasper turned to Edward with a nod. "Your uncle managed to cheat the local salon out of hundreds of dollars playing at the table. And, again, six months ago."

Edward pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Sounds like Uncle Mike alright," he muttered as Jacob stifled a laugh behind him.

"Is he in a great amount of debt?" Edward dared ask.

"I paid it all off," Jasper said.

Edward sensed a blush of embarrassment creeping up his throat. "Then I am indeed in your debt, Mr. Hale. I do not know how I will pay you back."

Jasper shook his head. "I didn't do it out of charity, Mr. Masen. I have been waitin' for your uncle to return, I know he will. I have something that belongs to him. But, in the meantime, I'll have to settle for someone working off the debt."

Edward and Jacob's smiles faded.

"How…how much does my uncle owe you?" Edward asked.

Jasper pressed his lips together. "Around 1,500 dollars, give or take."

Jacob leaned forward; his eyes glued to the floor. "How much is that in today's money?" he whispered in Edward's ear.

"Oh, around 44,000 dollars…give or take," Edward hissed back under his breath. He could hear Jacob's sharp intake of breath as he straightened up.

Jasper gave them a wry smile. "Listen, it is obvious you're looking for your uncle—who undoubtedly will return here. Meanwhile, work on my ranch for food, clothin', and shelter and pay off Michael Masen's debt until he returns. I will not call the sheriff on you, Mr. Masen, but I'd not want you runnin' off either." Jasper's southern charm made his proposition sound less severe.

Edward realized they were once more stuck. It wasn't like they could deny his offer; fearing that Jasper would call the local sheriff on them and have a repeat of Eagle Pass.

"What if his uncle doesn't show up?" Jacob asked.

Jasper shrugged. "Then I'll keep you here for six months, not a day longer, and I'll consider your debt paid and you'll be free to go."

"What if… we decide not to take you up on your kind offer?" Jacob asked.

"I'm doing y'all a favor, Mr…?"

"Black."

Jasper gave a faint nod and turned back to Edward. "Otherwise, I'd have to report you to the sheriff, and you don't want me to do that. You'd stand trial in your uncle's place and probably be locked away a few years or sent to do labor at some prison."

"We'll gladly take your kind offer, Mr. Hale," Edward quickly cut in, not wishing to end up with the more unfavorable option.

"Glad to hear it," Mr. Hale blinked. "And please, call me Jasper."

The ranch had been in Jasper Hale's family for two generations. It was located some miles south of San Antonio and prospered greatly under Jasper's father. Five years ago, old Mr. Hale had perished in a riding accident and left the entire estate to his youngest son while the oldest ran rampant on the countryside, doing whatever he wished.

Taking care of such a large estate was hard and Jasper had the good fortune of being surrounded by good and capable men. The group of men which had been with him as he met Jacob and Edward belonged to his inner circle. Marcus was his right hand on the ranch. Mostly he oversaw the handling of the livestock and helped wherever else he was needed.

In Marcus' gang were also Rick, Dexter, and Phineas. They had gotten the task of overseeing Jacob and Edward.

Dexter, who was the shortest in the group, was preparing two more horses for Edward and Jacob.

"Where are we going?" Jacob asked as he looked at the horses and readjusted his hat.

"We need to tend to the cattle, they've wandered too far west, borderin' on another ranch and we'd rather not get into trouble with 'em," Marcus stated as he adjusted a stirrup of his steed.

Edward's fists were clenched as he stared at the mare he was supposed to ride. She appeared lively, he thought in dismay. She kept stomping and shaking her brown mane as if taunting him. "Ol' Josephine hasn't had any good exercise for a while, so you'll have to be strict on 'er," Dexter blinked as he handed Edward the reins.

Edward took them and stared at them, blinking several times as he looked up at the group. His mouth closed and opened until he mustered enough courage to speak.

"I-I c-can't," he said.

Jacob had already mounted his horse, his lips pressed together as he watched Edward with a frown.

"Can't? It ain't that hard, Mr. Masen. Besides, it ain't like you've got a choice," Phineas muttered as he gathered the reins of his horse and settled into the saddle.

Footsteps sounded behind them and Edward wondered who else would join their group.

"No," he said while looking down. "I mean I don't know how to ride a horse."

The men before him except Jacob let out a snort of laughter, thinking Edward to be joking at first. But when it dawned on them that he was being serious they quickly stopped.

"You mean to tell us you've never been taught?" Phineas asked, dumbfounded at the revelation.

"How on earth have you been travellin', Mr. Masen?" Dexter added.

Edward was about to respond when someone behind him spoke up. "Don't matter, does it? Mr. Masen doesn't know how to ride and he ain't gonna learn in the next five minutes."

Edward turned around, coming face to face with Jasper himself.

Jasper nodded to the mounted men. "You men ride ahead and leave Mr. Masen here with me."

Jacob looked at Edward. "I don't know if—"

"It's fine, Jacob, really," Edward quickly interrupted, trying to conceal his relief.

Jacob showed his distaste at simply leaving Edward behind, but eventually left with the rest of the men. Edward turned to Jasper with a half-smile. "I thank you, Mr. H—Jasper, for not forcing me to ride with them."

Jasper shrugged. "Had you gone with them without any proper experience you would most likely have endangered yourself and my men."

"I am more of a scholar, a man of letters—"

Jasper walked up to him and patted him on the shoulder. "There are some things you should have been taught long ago, Mr. Masen." He made a gesturing motion that in turn made Edward follow him in befuddled confusion.

"It seems you hail from a family of means, yet your parents never bothered to teach you to ride?"

Edward was thrown off at the mention of his parents. Jasper turned around when he was met by silence. "It… It isn't as required up north as it is here, sir."

Jasper's shoulders shook with a chuckle. "It's hard for me to believe that no one rides up in New York."

"I prefer the carriage."

They walked past some amalgamated houses until arriving at an enclosure. Some men stood by it with some horses and Jasper went to have a word with them. The men save one left and took all horses with them but one.

Jasper patted the long neck of the horse, turning to Edward. "Old Sampson is as tame as they come," he blinked.

Edward furrowed his brows as he hesitantly walked up to the blonde man.

Jasper's hand trailed over the naked back of the horse as one of the men came carrying a saddle and bridle, hanging it on the white fence which they stood by.

"Thank you, Ramirez," Jasper blinked as he turned to Edward. "Before I let you seat him, I think it's best we go over the basics."

Edward blinked in a stupor. "So… this means…"

Jasper handed over the bridle. "If you're to work here for the comin' six months, Mr. Masen, you'll have to learn how to live and breathe on the back of a horse, that's how we do things here."

Edward walked up to the dark horse, graying hair showing in his mane and tail suggesting Sampson was already of advanced age.

Jasper smirked as Edward clumsily clung to the horse while it trotted away. He wasn't a natural and Jasper suspected it would take a long time for him to be truly comfortable in the saddle. But he wouldn't give up on him.

Within a week Jasper had managed to get Edward up in the saddle without any assistance. The next hurdle would be teaching him to get comfortable with the horse going at a different pace.

Two sets of footsteps approached, two people were nearing, watching the comical scene before them as Edward, leaning over the mane, clung on for dear life as his face paled, screaming for the horse to stop.

"Use the reins, son!" Randy Hale shouted in a hearty chuckle as he came to stand next to his brother.

"That poor boy's been at it since sunrise, Jasper. Have Ramirez help him off so I can get some food into his belly," Alice snickered as she neared with a wooden bowl of steaming grits and a sealed flask with a mysterious liquid.

"He knows how to stop Sampson himself," Jasper answered, turning around to meet his brother. "Didn't think Ferris would let you leave Eagle Pass in one piece." Jasper arched an eyebrow, eyeing his brother. "Can't say I'm too happy to see you after the spectacle you pulled over there. You know better than to rile those men up."

In many ways they were the complete opposite. In terms of looks, they did not differ much. Both were handsome, blond, and held a glint to their eye as they spoke. But while Randy appeared more mischievous with a fondness for getting into trouble, Jasper was quiet, severe, and kept his cool. One could never guess that Jasper was the youngest.

"Well, he overextended his hospitality by lettin' me spend a few nights in his jail. Must say, don't think I've ever slept so well," Randy blinked.

"Bet they fed you well too," Alice snickered as she slapped his front and walked past him. "Mr. Masen, get off that old wretch and come have some supper!" she smiled. Her accent was decidedly northern, Edward had noted from the start.

"Stop!" Edward whispered to the trotting horse, wondering how long his poor behind could take it. But, of course, Sampson didn't listen. Edward knew that the only way for him to stop the animal was to reach for the reins which had slipped out of his hands a few moments prior. But that meant he had to let go of the mane which he'd grabbed onto as a final lifeline. He didn't have a choice, however. It was evident Jasper wouldn't come to his aid this time.

Edward squared his jaw and leaned down to reach for the reins. But his balance was poor, poor enough for him to sway as Sampson yanked to the left at Edward's sudden movement, causing him to sway to the right. It was enough to send him falling out of the saddle, landing on his back with the air violently leaving his lungs. The moment Edward hit the ground, the horse stopped, looking at him curiously. Sampson stretched his long neck and gave out a muted neigh while Edward glared back.

"Thank you for stopping," he gasped as he sat up. It was only then that he noticed Randy's overtly loud cackles and Jasper's subdued chuckles. It was only Alice that appeared worried.

"Are you alright, Mr. Masen?" she shouted from the other side of the paddock.

Edward sat on the dusty ground and removed the brown hat, squinting at the group while he ran a hand through his sweaty hair and then scratched his stubble. He couldn't help a small chuckle escape him as well. "I'm fine, Mrs. Hale, thank you for your concern."

He proceeded to stand up, grunting at the faint pain shooting up and down his back and wobbling over unsteady legs that felt like spaghetti. Hopefully, a warm bath and a nice night of rest would remedy that. He awkwardly walked to them as he replaced the hat.

"I wouldn't believe it until I saw it with my own eyes!" Randy said amidst short bursts of laughter as he wiped his tears. "Never have I met a grown man who couldn't ride!"

Jasper rose his eyebrows and Edward noted a faint tension between the brothers, something Randy tried to brush away with more conversation. "The way you handled yourself at Eagle Pass… have you ever even brandished a pistol?"

"N-No," Edward muttered. He quietly unscrewed the top of the flask, downing some sweet drink and giving off a satisfied exclamation as he finished the entire bottle.

Randy had asked the question in gest, thinking Edward would flash a smile and refrain from answering. However, his answer had Randy flabbergasted. Jasper rose an eyebrow but refrained from any tasteless remarks, noting Edward's discomfort. Alice tsked at Randy, but the man had no tact and continued.

"No!" Randy shouted. "Really? No wonder you were so idle back at Eagle Pass," Randy blinked. "What a help it would have been if you knew how to shoot."

Edward's lips thinned as he accepted the bowl of grits from Alice, forcing a smile. At least her kind generosity and motherly concern didn't go unnoticed by him.

"Then maybe instead of coming down on him you could teach him a thing or two," Alice said tartly as she faced Randy. "Didn't you proclaim yourself the best gunslinger this side of the Rio Grande?"

"I think I have heard you say that once or twice," Jasper added, folding his arms and looking at his brother competitively.

Edward downed the entire bowl in a few bites, his eyes darting up and down as he listened to the conversation intently.

"Wouldn't the best gunslinger in the west be able to teach Mr. Masen to shoot as well as any of us?" Jasper asked.

Randy smirked. "I guess I did say that, but just 'cause I know how to handle a gun don't mean I know how to teach it to anyone. But I remember someone sayin' they could teach anyone anythin'."

Jasper unfolded his arms and looked at Edward. "He learns quickly," he nodded.

"You're teachin' him to ride, might as well teach him the rest," Randy said as he eyed his younger brother.

Jasper shrugged as he frowned. "Your faith in me astounds me, brother," he muttered.

Randy's eyes darkened. "I have my reasons, don't I?"

Suddenly the tension shifted, became more poignant. Edward and Alice stood awkwardly looking at the side. But while Alice more than likely was aware of the root of the sudden animosity, Edward was not, and he had no mind to inquire about it.

"I-I would uhm very much wish to learn to shoot… from you, Mr. Hale," he stammered awkwardly.

Jasper rose an eyebrow at Edward, turning from his brother. "You sure you don't have any experience shootin' a gun?" he asked with a frown.

"Never touched one in my entire life before Eagle Pass," Edward said.

Jasper turned to Randy, his lips in a thin line as if he wished to say something but kept it at bay. Edward's heart began beating quicker.

Jasper muttered something intangible.

"Maybe focus on learnin' how to ride first," Jasper sighed as he patted Edward's back in a brotherly fashion. Something akin to sadness spread on Alice's features as Randy returned to the main house.

Edward didn't ask, he didn't dare inquire. But he knew, the conflict, the lingering looks, the irritation, restrained anger waiting to blossom to the surface until it exploded like a volcano. He recognized Jasper in himself in that regard.

"I don't think I've ever met someone more unskilled with a weapon than yourself, Mr. Masen," Jasper sighed.

"My hand-eye coordination has never been good," Edward defended himself. He'd gotten used to being away from his reading glasses, not that they would be necessary for him to shoot, but they'd certainly help.

Jasper put up his hands in the air. "I won't have you mannin' this ranch without knowing the basics of firin' a gun." They stood behind a small outhouse far removed from the main house of the ranch and the stables, as not to frighten the animals too much. Jasper was patient, more patient than Edward suspected Randy would have been. He slowly walked Edward through the steps, pausing to let him ask questions. The days passed on in a similar fashion and Edward and Jasper spent a lot of time together in comfortable silence. Edward wouldn't ask about Jasper just as Jasper wouldn't ask about Edward until one day, when they once more found themselves behind the outhouse.

Jasper gave Edward the pistol again, showing him each intricate part, and then asked him to load it. As Edward went through the monotonous task, he eyed Jasper several times.

"You can ask, I know you've been wanting to," Edward said after a tense moment, feeling the weight of the pistol resting in his hand. He stared at the stacked bottles, waiting to be shot down. Jasper removed his hat and wiped away the sweat from his brow.

"When did you lose them, Mr. Masen?"

Edward aimed, his finger itching to squeeze the trigger. "I was eight."

Jasper's silence said it all. Edward squeezed and fired the first shot, missing the bottle. He sighed in defeat, resetting the revolver and aiming again.

"This uncle of yours… he raised you?"

Edward shot. This time, he hit the bottle right in the center. It shattered from the impact of the bullet as a dark shadow extended within Edward's eyes. "You can say that…" Edward aimed again. "I heard from your brother that you are the younger one," Edward said and changed the subject.

Jasper leaned against the worn-down fence next to the house, watching Edward closely as he aimed and missed again, giving out a frustrated sigh. He went to refill the chamber of the revolver and was trying to close it but found it difficult. "Yeah," Jasper murmured. He reached for the pistol and inspected it, sighing as he reloaded it, Edward had put in the bullets backward.

"Yet the older brother does not remain to run the family ranch," Edward said. He had been curious about it for weeks yet hadn't dared ask anyone about it. He was little for gossip, yet the tension between Randy and Jasper was obvious.

Jasper looked up and handed Edward the pistol. "There was never a choice in the matter, for me or Randy. We had to face it and deal with it as best we could. I remain here while Randy scours the countryside, running away from his problems."

The pistol weighed down Edward's hand. Randy reminded him so much of Uncle Mike, of how others would perceive him from the outside. He wondered how Jasper's and Randy's relationship faired behind closed doors.

"And from what I gather, whatever it is you are runnin' away from, you will eventually have to face it too."

"I'm not running away from anything," Edward retorted sternly. He was about to give a stronger remark to Jasper when the stern face looking back had him shut his mouth. Edward clenched his jaw, frowning in confusion. What was Jasper talking about? He wasn't running away, if anything, he was trying to get back a man who was running away, chasing after him through space and time.

Jasper shrugged. "Workin' on this ranch, day and night, helps put your mind elsewhere, it helps clear it for the time being, but it doesn't solve the underlyin' problems many people carry with them here. Some choose to face them; some ignore them forever. I've seen both," Jasper said enigmatically. It sounded like he was talking about himself.

Edward found no words could measure up to what Jasper had just told him.

Jasper looked at the last remaining bottle. "Keep shootin', Edward. You'll start hittin' it… eventually. We all do."

Without a word, Edward rose the pistol and squinted as he aimed. He squeezed the trigger and the shot boomed out over the valley. When he looked more closely, he saw that he'd missed, it was further strengthened when Jasper encouraged him.

"Again."

He poured some cooling water over his face and naked torso, patting the side of the horse's sweaty flank as he squinted his eyes at the horizon. Jacob and Marcus were rounding up the last of the cattle. They had been wandering onto western territory, old Rick's land. Marcus didn't want a confrontation like last time where Jasper had to sit with Rick for a full three hours and discuss his cattle's trespassing.

During the past few months, Edward had grown stronger than he had ever been before. In the beginning, muscles he didn't know he had would ache for days. Now his body was lean, defined, showed the hard work he put into tending the cattle and the upkeep of the ranch.

Dexter put away the hammer and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "I hope that'll hold 'em."

Edward pressed his lips together as he picked up another pole that was to be inserted into the ground. They had been working on building a fence between Jasper and Rick's land, hoping it would be enough to keep Jasper's cattle from straying away. Three months had passed since their arrival at the ranch, three months of hard-working and toiling the land.

Yet, no word of Uncle Mike.

After the first month, Edward and Jacob had given up, yet they had made no real effort to return to their own time. They had not even spoken about it. The "what if" still hung in the air, the need to know the underlying mystery. No, they were in no hurry, they could wait.

They had all the time in the world.

Every week, Edward would follow Jasper into town and inquire after his uncle, every week he would return without a word.

Josephine stomped her feet and reached for the water. Edward chuckled, letting the mare quench her thirst as he went to hammer yet another pole into the dry ground.

"If the drought continues, we'll have a bad harvest this year as well," Dexter sighed. He had burned his back from the harsh sun, not wishing to put on the sunblock Edward had made for them.

"I heard yesterday that Randy's coming up from the south again to pay a visit," Edward said. He always looked forward to Randy's visits. There were few people he could so easily get along with as with Randy. True, their conversations were nothing like his and Carlisle's or his quips with Jacob. But around Randy, he felt carefree, at ease somehow. Randy reminded him a lot of Dan. Edward frowned. He missed many things about home but what he missed the most was probably Dan's company, his encouraging words, and his inclusiveness.

Dexter pressed his lips together. "Maybe it's best if he stayed away this time."

"Why should he stay away?" Edward straightened up and wiped the sweat from his brow again as he squinted at Dexter.

The shorter man shrugged as he put away the hammer. "What with his past and with the missus." Edward's confused expression had Dexter surprised. "Oh, you haven't heard?"

"I'm not one for gossip."

"It ain't gossip if everyone from Eagle Pass to Austin knows it," Dexter snickered. "But you really didn't know that Mrs. Hale was once engaged to be married to Randy?"

Edward's eyes widened. "Really?"

"And I tell ya, she never went into the engagement willfully, she always had her eye on Jasper. Randy then claimed that he refused the ranch to old Mr. Hale. It took some coaxin'. Surely, you've been wonderin' why the younger son got to inherit the farm and not the older one? When Jasper inherited it after the old man's passin', he was quickly engaged to Alice." Dexter frowned. "We all know Randy still loves her… I think that's why he's away all the time, why he keeps gettin' himself into all that mischief…to occupy himself. I think him a mighty fine man, to give up so much for the happiness of the woman he loved…and for the happiness of his brother."

Many things started making sense to Edward. "You think he regrets it?"

Dexter shrugged. "Wouldn't know, I ain't one to speculate too much on that but I think the missus would have been too unhappy not having been able to marry Jasper."

Edward shook his head. The looks Randy had been sending Alice told Edward that he deeply cared for her. He couldn't begin to understand what he had to be going through. He had never known love like that. Sure, he was interested in Bella Swan, there was definitely a spark there, but he barely knew her.

Suddenly, thinking about her brought him back to the 21st century. He wondered what she must be up to now. He was reminded of the auburn locks, the fascination on her face as they would converse. Edward grimaced. How blind he had been… it was evident she had been into him, he had just been too blind and too insecure to notice it. He vowed to himself that after getting Uncle Mike, he'd try and ask her out.

"I'm supposing her family had a say in whom she should marry?" Edward said haphazardly.

"A rich bunch from up north who would never give away their daughter once they found out Randy had renounced his inheritance."

Edward picked up the hammer and hammered down the pole mindlessly, setting into a rhythm. "So Randy really did it all for her." Edward wiped away more sweat. His hammer came down with an impressive force.

Dexter didn't answer him.

They kept working, forgetting the conversation in the sweltering heat as quickly as it had occurred. Jacob and Marcus returned in a canter. "Alright, we're done for today. We'll camp near the stream downhill and finish the rest tomorrow," Marcus said in his thick accent, pointing beyond the hill. The cattle seemed to have settled for the day as the sun lowered in the sky. They were too far from the ranch to safely return as twilight beckoned.

Edward and Dexter gave stiff nods and started packing up. "Wonder if Randy will have arrived by the time we get back," Dexter chuckled.

"He better, he promised he'd give Edward some shooting pointers…" Jacob said.

"Mr. Hale has been my teacher," Edward trailed off.

"Well, I don't see any progress," Jacob teased."

"Keep doing that, see what happens," Edward muttered but he couldn't help as his lips turned into a smirk, causing Jacob to laugh in turn.

They made camp with a small fire and managed to get some gruel and jerky into their stomachs. Edward stared into the dancing flames, reminded of the cold nights in France as he and Jacob had traveled with Carlisle and his entourage to Marseille, to set sail for the Holy Land.

That felt like an age ago.

The stars above them were as bright as they had been in 1190, and as breathtaking as well. As the sun dipped below the horizon, Edward put on his dirty gray shirt and coat.

He poked the fire with a stick as the rest in their group started falling asleep one by one save Jacob. A melancholy silence settled as an unspoken understanding flowed between them. They couldn't stay on the ranch forever just like they couldn't wait for Mike forever.

They could hear the grazing of the cattle, and the horses shifting their weight. Somewhere, in the far distance, a howl of a lonely coyote sounded, reminding them of the closeness of the wilderness.

"You seemed happier in 1190." Jacob broke the pleasant silence of the night.

Edward shrugged.

"You don't stutter anymore, have you noticed that?" Jacob smiled.

Edward poked the fire with the stick again. "No."

"Do you want to talk about it? About…him?"

The flames cast long shadows on Edward's face. He hadn't had time to shave for two days, the stubble now prominent on his jawline, growing up toward his cheeks. It contoured his face, defining his jawline and hollowing out his cheekbones.

Edward rose an eyebrow and rolled his eyes. "You were probably told of my uncle before we set out on this mission."

"You're not as naïve as I thought you were."

"I'm more curious to know how much intel you were given about Mike," Edward sighed.

He could hear Jacob shifting, the ground under him scraping against his boots and the fabric of his trousers. Jacob adjusted the hat, the brim of it casting a deep shadow over his face as Edward leaned closer to the fire, his eyes lost in the flames.

"I know he raised you after your parents…" Jacob stopped for a second. "Passed away," he said, finishing the sentence.

"You don't have to tiptoe around the subject, Jacob. It happened a long time ago."

"I lost my mom when I was a kid and I still don't like to talk about it."

Edward tore his eyes away from the fire and blinked hard, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. He stared into the shadow cast over Jacob's face, trying to find his eyes, but was only met with more darkness.

"Mike raised me… what more is there to say?" Edward gritted his teeth and cast the stick into the flames.

Had Jacob known any better he would have kept his mouth shut. But, after everything they had gone through, he didn't. "Maybe that's why you're so shaken up about him…now, when you know you'll see him again."

"Damn fine shrink you are," Edward muttered sarcastically as he let out a sigh. He waited, finally resigning himself to continue. "When my folks died, it was sudden. I didn't even say goodbye to them. We had been talking about going to the movies together the next night… it was a Friday. Usually, you'd hang out with your friends a Friday night when you're eight..." Edward stared up at the constellations once again, getting lost in the bright stars. A feeling of nostalgia washed over him, as if he wasn't at a particular place or time anymore.

"Someone—I don't know who—had forgotten to put out some candles in the living room. The fire alarms were faulty…I woke up first, the fire was so close to my parents' room… I… I couldn't help them. It was too late."

The silence stretched thin around them.

"Never got to say goodbye…" Jacob whispered, a knowing look etching into his eyes. A look of anger at the prospect, a look of regret, and a look of compassion from someone who had gone through the same pain.

"No," Edward answered.

Jacob removed his hat as his roughened fingers fiddled with the brim of it, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled the fresh scent of the night.

"In the course of a week, my world was turned upside down. I had lost my childhood home and was forced to move from Seattle to Portland, my uncle put me in a new school, ripped me away from my old life before I had time to really process it all. I like to think that he was dealing with the pain in his own way. He had just lost his brother, after all." Edward gritted his teeth. "But… I was kind of left to fend for myself. My uncle was away working on projects, getting elevated for this and that. And wherever I went, I was compared to my dad. There was an expectation of me to go into the same field. Mike never asked, instead he made sure to get me tutors that would help me excel in a field I was never truly good at."

Jacob listened without interrupting, something Edward wasn't used to. It strangely prompted him to continue, to open up in a way he hadn't before.

"It's not that I don't enjoy history or the study of it. It's just not what I ever saw myself doing. But I was Simon Masen's son, so of course I had to go into the same field," Edward muttered. Strangely, the words started pouring out of him, the stream that had previously been blocked began to flow more freely the more he spoke.

"You mean to tell me you got into college, did not one but two degrees and a master's in pursuit of a career you never wanted?"

Edward's eyes were glued to the sky. He had never openly admitted it, he had never dared to. The last months had slowly sculpted him into someone else, someone with more courage, someone more daring than before: someone who had started standing up for himself.

"Yes." It was simple, yet it had taken him years to dare say it out loud. "I never wanted this path, I never sought out this path. But I resigned myself onto it, because I thought it was expected of me... because it was what Uncle Mike wanted."

Jacob gave a low whistle. "That's dedication."

Edward looked at him again.

"Maybe your uncle simply did what he thought was best for you—"

A dry laugh escaped Edward. "Uncle Mike only does what is best for himself." A blank expression overcame him. "Can't have someone taint the Masen family name," Edward whispered. "There is only the best, mediocre isn't allowed…"

The camp fell silent once again. Jacob digested Edward's words as much as Edward himself. It was evident that his upbringing with someone like Mike had affected him. But, to Jacob, it seemed like he was breaking loose from the chains his uncle had forced upon him. Yet, he worried what brash action Edward might do to his uncle should he meet him once more. Jacob laughed at the thought, why on earth should he worry for the weasel who had left them stranded? He quickly forced the thought away.

"My dad always pushed me, but never beyond my limits or to such an extent," Jacob murmured. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "When we get back… if we get back, I need to pay the old man a visit…"

The fire cracked as Edward cast another gathering of branches over it. Some sparks extended toward the dark sky.

A/N: Sorry for the delay in the chapter! Finals is here for another two weeks. I hope you liked this chapter, if you did, please let me know by leaving a review!

Cheers!

Isabelle