Sorry for my absence. I'll be updating twice this week.

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C H A P T E R - S E V E N

Wars Don't End Everything

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Charlie didn't physically appear to be the type of man who was capable of murder. His build was too slight, but I couldn't shake the image of him stepping onto the porch, ready to kill me if I moved another inch onto his property. Even when he looked to the pail I sat on the floor, to me and then back to his daughter, I told myself: Be careful. This is a dangerous man, a dangerous father.

I saw it for the briefest of seconds – a scowl touched his brow before it straightened, and fear that gripped his eyes before he grinned, amused. "You know, the way she acted when she came back, I thought she was attacked by large brutes."

Attacked? No. I shook my head like a desperate man pleading 'not-guilty' to a crime he didn't commit. "I didn't attack her, sir. I saw her wandering alone and was worried..."

"Ah! No harm done. Right, Bella?" He looked to her as he wrapped his arm around her back and pulled her shoulder so she nestled against his side. I waited for her to say something, anything. She hadn't spoken a word since the first moment I laid my eyes on her (although, she had good reason in the forest).

But she didn't speak. Instead, she shook her head then turned back to the stove and picked up a wooden spoon to stir the pot with large sweeps. Charlie turned his attention to me.

"It's fine. She can go back later and grab a pailful." He shifted toward the opposite side of the room. "We always keep a well-stocked supply of water, as you can see," he gestured to the black cauldron over the fire, "but every few days she'll add to the pot. Would you like some? I reckon y'all are thirsty."

"Yes," I answered for both Alice and myself.

He pulled down three clear cups from an open shelf that held numerous dishes of all sizes. There weren't many, but it appeared to be adequate enough for a small family.

"I'm impressed that you're able to live like this," I said as Charlie poured clear water from a glass pitcher that had been sitting idle in the shade on top of the counter. "You have everything."

He smiled appreciatively. "Not everything, but we do pretty well for ourselves."

"How?" I asked, pushing his response a little further. I wanted to know more.

"Wars don't end everything."

We took the water with gratitude. It wasn't a large glass, but simply the weight of it in my hands was enough for my throat to pronounce its dryness.

Even though common sense told me it would be okay to drink since he and his family had been drinking it, a small, trust-less person that always resided in the back of my mind told me otherwise. It was at my lips within a second to be inspected. It was clear, and completely odorless, and when Charlie raised a glass to his lips and drank without a second thought, that was all the convincing Alice and I required. It was probably rude of me to drink as fast as I did, but I wasn't able to conjure the will to stop. Charlie, however, didn't seem to mind.

He allowed a heavy breath to escape his lungs, a welcome relief given by the cool water, I assumed. "Life moved on," he continued. "We're able to grow crops, filter water. We make our own candles, so we always have light when the good Lord doesn't want to give it to us. Sometimes, someone will pass through looking for trouble, but we take care of 'em."

By pointing a bow and arrow at their face was my guess. And, even though I knew he was lanky, I also knew that looks could be deceiving, so I didn't put murder past him. A man had to look out for his family. A man had to defend what was his. He also had the help of his sons.

A ragged screech came from the opposite side of the room. The screen door, next to the stove, had opened and through it stepped an older woman. Her brown hair was pulled back under her wide-brimmed, straw hat, and she was pulling the dirty gloves from her slender hands while looking down at her feet. The white tank-top and shorts she wore were covered in dirt as well.

"What happened to those two roadies? Charlie take care of 'em?" I wasn't sure I liked her words and what they suggested. Her accent was thick, Southern, more-so than Charlie's.

He cleared his throat as she was beating the dirt from her legs, and when she raised her head it was clear who this woman was. She was Bella's mother. She had to be. Their characteristics were the same: their long, brown hair; the shape of their face and even their builds were similar. But, I saw Charlie in her eyes, dark and fearful.

"Oh," she said with a slight grin, but she appeared more surprised. "How'dja do?"

Charlie cleared his throat once more. "This is Edward and Alice."

The woman stepped lively into the kitchen with one hand extended, clutching her old, garden gloves in the other. "I'm Renee," she said and took Alice's hand first then mine with slight reluctance. Her shake was soft. So soft, in fact, that I could barely feel any pressure there at all. My immediate thought was she disliked my appearance, since everyone there, including Alice, was more well-groomed than I was. "It's so nice to meet you." She released, looking at me then back to Alice several times before asking, "Are y'all related?"

"No," Alice responded quickly. "We're of no relation."

"Just friends, travel companions," I added. Though, I was surprised she asked if we were family. I didn't think Alice and I looked anything alike.

"Well, y'all are more than welcome to make yourselves at home. It's nearly supper time and we'll be eating shortly. You must be starvin'." She put her palms to Alice's cheeks, as if to comfort and assess her. She frowned slightly and sighed, disagreeing with something to do about Alice. "Bless your hearts. Bella, would you please add a bit more water to the stew, and extra carrots and corn? Would you like to come with me and freshen up?" she asked Alice with a pleasant grin as she took hold of her hands.

"That would be great." She looked back at me, then. I had no idea what 'freshen up' consisted of exactly. It was one of those woman things that I didn't care to know about, but it seemed to excite Alice, and Renee seemed harmless.

"I thought you might. You seem like the cleanly type," Renee said as they disappeared down the hall. Alice said something afterward with a chuckle, but I couldn't understand what it was.

Charlie's voice was a husky baritone against the surrounding walls of the kitchen. "Welp, I've got a few more things to do before we eat. About fifteen minutes?" He asked Bella as he walked by her. Once again, she only nodded. "Please show Edward where he can wash up," he finished before stepping through the screen door that Renee came through only moments before, but not before glancing at me. I was starting to think my uniform had nothing to do with the hatred I received from people. Maybe it was just me, an aura that I omitted, or something.

It was only her and me, then. I wanted to make conversation, to tell her I was sorry about earlier, but something told me it would be one-sided.

So, I stood there like an idiot with my hands in my pockets, my fingers grazing the chain where my tags were, while she ignored me and busied herself in front of the stove, which was quite unique now that I got a good look at it. I could see the embers of the wood burning ever-so faintly below the ceramic stars that held the large pot, the same embers that delicately lit her skin when she turned her head in my direction.

I tensed, and found myself caught in her gaze. I didn't know why, but something in that moment caused me to back slightly away. Maybe it wasn't the father I had to concern myself with. Maybe there was a reason why he allowed his slender daughter to trollop to a river by herself while monsters roamed around. I wanted to be out of that room, away from that awkward moment.

"Um, where can I clean myself off at?" I asked, making scrubbing motions with my hands, like she didn't know what I meant.

She motioned for me to follow her, and I did; out the screen door to the back yard that seemed to fade into a fenced-in heaven. There were horses, cows and sheep that were allowed to roam together in an L-shaped enclosure the the north. Chickens kicked dirt around the red barn with a white tin roof to our left, where I also saw the boots of Charlie as he disappeared into the shaded core. There was a dark, wood building next to it, much smaller than its neighbor. I couldn't distinguish its purpose by looks alone, but it had seen better days.

The garden in the middle of the property was the highlight. It was rich in green patterns, woven between the brown. There was corn, enough of it to feed a small army. So many different shapes of plants that were alive in the late afternoon sunlight. The horses neighed, the chickens made their funny noises, and I felt myself smile. A sort-of hope fell over me in that moment.

Life was possible this way. They moved on. How many other people in the world had done the same?

A loud bang with a slight ringing echo came from my right. It was Bella. She was standing next to a large metal tin nestled on the side of the house. "I'm sorry. I was admiring the view. It's beautiful," I said as I began to walk again. On approach I realized the thing she stood next to held gallons upon gallons of water.

She began motioning to the water, dipping her hands in and sprinkling it on her arms then rubbing it in, as if to demonstrate what I was supposed to do. Did she think I had forgotten how to wash myself?

She cupped her hands and brought the water to her mouth, as if to drink it, but she slung it back into the tin and ticked her finger back and forth: no. It was sort-of amusing, but I didn't show what I thought of it. She passed behind me, but kept an arm-length distance between us.

"Got it. Bathe, but don't drink. It's okay if I wash my face, though?"

She turned back and nodded, her expression straight, before continuing her stride. Why the silent treatment, Bella Swan?

I bit my lower lip and grinned. "So, I see the sink, but where's the toilet?"

She turned back and stared, emotionless, amusement-less. I had hoped for a smirk, but my joke wasn't perceived very well, apparently.

"'Cause, you know, it's outside... and... obviously this isn't a sink."

The grin faded when the screen door screeched then slammed shut on its springs. I sighed and muttered, "Whatever." I just wanted to break the ice, get rid of the tension. I wanted her to know that regardless of what happened in the woods, I wasn't going to harm her. I mean, I thought I was a pretty nice guy. Who wasn't slightly grumpy at times? More-so, what person wasn't grumpy when they're hungry?

I peeled the sticky shirt off my back, allowing it to fall off my wrist into the grass. I leaned onto the rim of the metal tin, catching my reflection in the rippling water caused from my disturbance on the edge. Damn, I looked rough. Alice was right. There was a certain mountain man quality.

I cupped my hands into the cool water and splashed it on my face, neck and shoulders then down my arms and chest. It felt wonderful. I paid close attention to the beard, mostly; combing through it and removing any clumps of dirt that had gotten stuck there since I last cleaned up. I was sure I appeared disgusting to those people. The least I could do was attempt to be almost presentable while at their table.

Black water rolled down my extremities, tainted by the grime that had stuck to me for the past few weeks. I could see my true skin color again. I was more pasty than I remembered.

I washed and re-washed, checking my disfigured image in the water a few times before I was satisfied I removed all the dirt. I picked up my shirt and slipped it back over my head.

It smelled bad, like sweat, B.O., mud and blood.

What more could I do? Apologize profusely? I would have to. I sighed. I needed more clothes. Alice had been ripping our spare t-shirts for wound cleaning, and whatever else she needed them for. At the time, I was for whatever Alice wanted, but standing outside that house, not wanting to go in because I was afraid of the stench I carried around with me, I kind of hated it.

What sounded like odd, distant thunder caught my attention just as I gained the courage to enter the kitchen once more. Past the garden and through the large trees that stood tall in the middle of the pastures, I saw two horsemen quickly approaching.

Their horses hugged the fence as they rode, and I could see, then, just as they passed the large oak that gave shade to the majority of the field, that one was carting something behind him, a slat of some sort carrying something rather large. Who were these cowboy-hatted men? For a moment, adrenaline flooded my veins with anticipation. I thought maybe they had intentions to take over Charlie's farm, but when they rode to the wooden building that stood beside the barn and Charlie emerged from the interior to greet them with his hand raised and a shout of excitement I knew who those men were: his sons.