Chapter Four

He Made Me Hear Music Again

He pulled the truck back up into the garage and got out, then reached for me and I slid under the wheel and out the driver's door. He continued to hold my hand and looked down at me.

"Are you okay? Do I need to get one of my jackets?"

"No. No. I'll be fine. It was just the milkshake. I think. I'm fine. Thanks."

He grabbed the hoses from the dashboard and opened the hood. I found a chair beside the truck and sat down to watch him while he worked. He pulled the leather string from his pocket and wrapped it around his hair, again tying it back behind his neck. That made sense. He needed it out of his way when he worked on cars. But I still thought he looked better with it down.

He was humming again while he worked, then I noticed he was quietly singing words I couldn't understand. The melody was sweet and his voice was so soft it was hard to hear him. I listened and closed my eyes, trying to make out the words, but it was impossible. They were simply foreign to me.

Between the sound of his song, the occasional tinkering sound of the wrench on the metal in the truck's motor, and the steady drip of the rain outside, I found myself almost being lulled to sleep. Imagine that, felling so comfortable and peaceful here in this strange place that I could actually fall asleep.

And I might have, fallen asleep, if it wasn't for the sound of unfamiliar voices, jarring me from my comfortable moment.

"Jake, buddy? What's happening?" A young man with a muscular build asked.

He was clearly Quileute, like Jake, and so was the other, smaller young man that was with him. Then they saw me, curled up in the chair beside the truck and both started grinning.

"Oh. Excuse us. We didn't know you had company," the muscularly built young man said, in a mocking tone of voice.

Jake looked up from under the hood, wiped his hands on the red rag laying on the frame of the truck, and started grinning.

"Hey guys. Come on in. It's just me and Bella. Guys this is my friend, Bella Swan," he motioned to me.

I got up and went over to stand beside Jake.

"Bella, this is Quil Artera and Embry Call. I guess you can call them my friends," he said, slinging the rag in their direction.

I shook each of their hands, and said it was nice to meet them. They both just kept ginning at me, then at Jake, then back at me. I was starting to feel very uncomfortable. I think Jake could see this, so he put them to work, helping him with the truck.

I went back to the chair, moving it to the corner and watched as they all worked under the hood. Quil, was broader in his shoulders than Embry and I could tell by his stance and mannerisms that he was fairly sure of himself. Embry, on the other hand, seemed to be more reserved and quiet. They were both nice looking, and their jet black hair was almost down to their shoulders, not quite as long as Jake's.

They all worked well together. Something told me that the three of them had spent many hours together in this garage working on vehicles and they were serious about it too. It was like they were all surgeons operating to save a life.

"There. I think it's finished Bella," Jake said, as he stood up and turned to face me.

Smiling he walked over to where I was sitting and held out his hand. He pulled me gently from my chair, then lead me to the workshop light that hung over the top of his workbench. I hadn't realized that he held one of the old hoses in the other hand, until he plopped it down on the wooden surface of the work bench.

He leaned down, under the beam of bright light, turned his head slightly to look back at me, still standing out away from the bench, and said in a low husky voice, "well, don't just stand there, I want to show you something."

I glanced over my shoulder at Quil and Embry, who were eyeing us both with fascination and some awkward grins, felt myself getting red in the face, then leaned down under the light with Jake.

He was taking the black tape off of the hose, where he had repaired it earlier. Once he had it removed, he bent the hose over, to reveal the cracks in the hose.

"See. Here was the problem. I'm glad you came to me for help."

Looking up from the hose, still bent over the workbench, I realized how close we were. He turned to look at me, just as I was forming my response.

"Yeah. Me too."

This time, I couldn't help but smile in response, even if it was for a slightly different reason than he thought.

Our eye contact and smiles were disrupted, by the sound of a tool being dropped on the concrete floor of the small garage. We both looked up to see Quil and Embry pretend to look the other way, and act like they weren't watching us.

I could feel the tension in the air, so I decided it was time for me to leave. I didn't want to, but I knew I couldn't overstay my welcome.

"Well. I guess I had better be getting back home. Is it safe to drive now?"

"You have the nerve to question the work of Jacob Black, owner of this fine establishment, if his work is adequate enough to get you home? I feel insulted," he said, grinning wildly.

"Oh. By all means, excuse me Mr. Black. I never meant to insinuate that your work was anything less than adequate. I'll take that as a yes that you have made me safe to travel once again?"

"Yes my lady, your carriage awaits," he said, bowing and gesturing his hand toward my old Chevy.

The other two occupants of the garage were almost rolling on the floor by now, so I nodded as I walked past them, told them again that it was nice to meet them, and got into my truck.

I carefully backed out, put it in gear, and began pulling away, when I realized that I hadn't thanked Jake for the milkshake and for fixing my truck. Nor had I offered to pay him for his time. I put the truck back in park, jumped out and ran back to the garage.

As I approached the door of the garage, I head a few words, but I was running so it was difficult to make if all out. The first thing I heard was "cute," then "maybe," and finally "not yet." I knew that they were no doubt talking about me, but I had to thank Jake.

"Jake," I gasped, huffing for air.

"Hey, back so soon? What's wrong?"

Jake came over to me with a seriously concerned look on his face.

"Can I talk to you for just a minute outside?" I asked, peeking around him to look at his friends.

They were watching every move we made, so I definitely didn't want to talk in front of them. Jake followed as I walked back outside and over to my truck.

"Sorry. I just forgot to say thanks for fixing my truck and for the milkshake and fries. Jake, can I pay you for helping me?"

Without seeming to think about what he was doing, he reached out and took one of my hands in his and patted it slightly.

"Bella. No, you can't pay me. It was my pleasure to help you. Besides, you got to see me in action. So you're welcome."

We smiled at each other and he slowly lowered my hand until it dropped back to my side.

"I also forgot to ask what time my appointment was for the rest of my tune up tomorrow."

"Good. You didn't forget. Can you come down after school? It might take me a few hours to give it a good going over."

"Okay. I'm sure Charlie won't mind. He'd probably like to see me out of the house."

As soon as I had said those words, I felt my expression fall. I realized that I hadn't been out of the house for several months, except to go to school and the grocery store. Jake picked up on my mood change too.

"Hey. It'll be okay. If you don't want to come down tomorrow, we can check it another time."

"No. No. It's not that I don't want.... I do....I need....my truck.... it's important. I need to come back tomorrow."

"Well it's settled then. I'll see you tomorrow after school. And don't worry. We'll have the garage to ourselves," he said, tossing a glace toward the doorway.

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow then. Thanks."

I climbed back into the truck and slowly pulled out onto the road. I watched him in the rear view mirror, watching me, until I could no longer see his form.

Mindlessly driving back home, I heard a strange sound filling the cab of my truck. It took me a few minutes to realize that the sound was me, humming the same song that Jake had been quietly singing while he worked on my truck.

I couldn't help but smile at the thought of him rubbing off on me. Maybe music wasn't that bad after all. I might have to at least learn that song.

Charlie wasn't home when I got back, so I went in and started dinner. I put a pot of stew on to cook, while I went upstairs and pulled out the new book I had gotten.

I lay across my bed and thumbed through the pages reading several of the passages again. It was strange how comforting it was to read this book and how it made me feel closer to Jake.

Later that night, Charlie and I ate our dinner without talking much, until he asked where I had gone today.

"How did you know I had left?"

"I saw you had moved the truck," he replied between bites.

"I went for a drive, and wound up in La Push. Something was wrong with my truck and just so happens Jake was home and he fixed if for me. It had two cracked hoses."

"Well that was nice of him," he said, while grinning.

"Is it okay if I go back down there tomorrow after school? He said he needs to give the truck a tune up."

"Sure. That's great. I know if anyone can do a decent job on an engine, it would be Jacob Black. Besides. I can't have my only daughter driving around in a truck that's not mechanically sound."

"Thanks. Do you want some more stew?"

He ate another bowl, while I started cleaning up the kitchen. Afterwards, I took a shower and got ready for bed.

When I climbed into bed, sinking down deep under my covers, I thought back on the day and remembered how warm Jake had made me feel. I was smiling as I remembered how soft his hair felt and how his actions worked right along with my thoughts. It was almost like we were fitting together like to pieces if fabric cut from the same material, just at opposite ends.

I liked that thought, being so similar with Jake and thinking and feeling things, only to have him complete them for me. What was he up too, I wondered? But it didn't matter, I liked the way he was making me feel and I wanted to get to know him even more.

My eyes became heavy, and I slipped into a peaceful dream world, where Jake and I were running along the beach chasing each other and laughing, then falling down upon the sand into pastel colors of clouds.

The next morning, I was up and out the door, almost before Charlie. We had both had a bowl of cereal, and I kissed his cheek, before I left, reminding him that I was going to see Jake after school. He just grinned and said, he remembered, and told me to tell Jake hello for him.

I went about my day, not really focusing on much, just watching the clock, hoping the day would be over soon, so I could be on my way to Jake's. So as soon as the last bell rang, I found myself walking, all too quickly to my truck and heading to La Push. I was ready to be with Jake again.

I pulled up in front of the small garage, and before I could close my door, he was there. He grabbed me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and pulled me into a tight embrace.

"Bella. You came back. I'm so glad to see you. How was your day?"

I was finding it difficult to breathe, let alone respond, so I just stood there. He had my arms pinned under his, but my hands were free, and strangely enough, I found them wrapped around his waist.

He held me like that until he realized I was gasping, then he let me go slowly, but placed his hands on my shoulders and held me at arms length so he could see my face.

I coughed out that my day had been just another Monday, and after I found my breath again, I asked, "why did you say that? Didn't you know I would come back?"

"Yeah. I was hoping you would, but you know how things sometimes get in the way....well...I'm just glad to see you."

He smiled at me with the warmest, most sincere smile, then dropped his arms to his sides.

"Well. Are you ready, do get started on the truck?"

"Sure."

"Okay, you pull it into the garage, and I'll get my tools ready."

So, I pulled the truck into the tiny opening and climbed out. Jake was busy gathering tools, and came to join me near the front of the truck.

"There won't be a whole lot I can do, until it starts to cool down, so right now I'm just going to check the fluid levels, and air filter."

I really had no idea what he was talking about, so I politely nodded, watched him open the hood, then propped my arms up on the side of the truck like I had yesterday.

I watched as he carefully worked around in the hot engine, checking the brake fluid, oil, wind shield washer fluid, but when he got to the radiator, he said it was still too hot to check.

"How was school for you today?" I asked, as he wiped a dipstick on a clean, red rag.

"Oh, you know. I guess about the same as for you."

He smiled and winked at me, then reinserted the dipstick into the appropriate spot. When he had done all he could, until the motor cooled, he walked over to a large red tool box on rollers, and slid open one of its drawers. I watched as he pulled out an old, wrinkled paper bag from which he removed two cans of soda.

"Bella, are you thirsty? I know they're not cold, but I don't mind so much," he said, holding a can out to me.

The gesture was so sweet that I felt a tug on the fragments of my damaged heart. I walked over and took it from his hand, then he motioned for me to have a seat in the old desk chair, where I had sat yesterday. I noticed he had brought out another chair and placed it beside the first.

We sat down, opened our sodas, then he looked over at me with a sincere expression. He leaned back in his chair touching it to the wall.

"Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"No. I don't mind."

I took a drink of the warm soda and focused my attention on his face.

"Why did you take the radio out? The real reason?"

I was stunned, and immediately felt a pain stab me in the chest, as I almost chocked on my soda. I coughed for a minute, and took a deep breath, dropping my gaze from his. Why had I said I didn't mind him asking? Now I felt compelled to answer.

"I used to listen to music when I was happy. Now every song reminds me of him and some hurt."

I didn't look up and I was struggling to keep tears from forming. I could hear him sipping his soda and the sound of the can as he brought it down and rested it against his chair.

"Bella, life doesn't have to stop," he said, in a very low, dry voice.

"It does when....," I paused, closed my eyes, and knew I had lost the battle to hold the tears back, as I felt them stream hot and moist down my cheeks, "when you lose someone you love."

I jumped at the sound, as the legs of Jake's chair suddenly cracked against the concrete floor. Looking up, I saw him looking down at his soda can as he crushed it in his hand. Now, he was the one not keeping eye contact with me.

"How can you say that? How did you...how could you....why would you love him? Not only did you leave you and hurt you, he's not even human, he's one of the cold ones, he's the freaking undead," he said, slamming the soda can onto the work bench as he got to his feet and came to stand in front of me.

He had pushed his anger aside by the time he knelt down before me, and put his hand to my cheek. He carefully wiped the tears away, and looked deep into my eyes.

When I recovered from how he had reacted, I saw the look of care and concern in his dark eyes, but it still didn't stop the hurt I was feeling inside.

"I can't explain it, but I did, and I guess a part of me still does," I admitted, feeling somewhat abashed.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. I didn't mean to make you cry. I'm just trying to understand."

And from the look in his eyes, I knew this was true, but I didn't know what to say, because I didn't even understand it myself.

"Come here," he said, taking me by the hand and pulling me out of my chair.

I followed close behind him, as he led me to my truck, he opened the door, and I climbed inside. He turned to go back to the workbench, picked up something wrapped in one of his red mechanic's rags, and came back to the truck, sliding in beside me.

"I don't want you to take this the wrong way or anything, but I don't want you to live your life missing out of things. Whether you know it or like it, your life is continuing, without him. I know it seems bad right now, but it will get better, in time, if you'll let it."

Then he turned to me with a pleading look, and pulled the red rag away.

"I had this one just lying around, so I want you to let me put it in your truck. After all, I don't want my baby going around with a gaping hole in her."

Then he gave me that smile, the one that seemed to make things better. How could I say no? He really wanted to do this for me.

"Okay. But it doesn't mean I have to listen to it."

I smiled at him, as he began pulling at the wires on the radio. Then he got out of the truck and did something under the hood, before sliding back into the cab and pulling wires out of the dash.

"What did you do?"

"I had to disconnect the battery cables. You wouldn't want me to get shocked. Would you?"

"No. No of course not."

I'd never thought of that. I didn't disconnect the battery when I pulled the other one out. Well, what he doesn't know, wont hurt me in the long run.

"Here. You hold these until I tell you to hand them to me."

I took the wires from inside the dash and held them out to give him room to work. The small copper wires stuck out in all directions, but he was soon asking me to hand them to him, and began attaching the ones on the radio to the ones from the dash with small plastic yellow caps.

Within minutes it seemed, he had the radio inserted in the dash and put a new face plate around the opening. I had to admit. It did look much better than just the empty hole.

He got out and reattached the battery cables, then got back in again. He turned on the key, then turned the knob on the radio. He found a station that was playing classic rock, and turned it down low. I saw him glancing at my hand, resting in the seat, then he grabbed it and pulled it toward him for closer inspection.

"Bella. You're bleeding."

I hadn't felt anything, but I guessed that one of the copper wires had poked me in the finger. I must have looked pale, because he was out of the truck in a flash and returning with a small first aid kit.

"I'm fine. I didn't even feel it," I said, trying to convince us both that I was okay.

He took my hand in his, cleaned the blood away, and placed a small bandage on my finger. After the blood was no longer in sight, I became aware that there was music playing from the radio. As the words of the song played, Jake pulled my hand up to his lips and kissed my bandaged finger.

I felt something, different as we listened and he continued to hold my hand, but I just attributed it to not having listened to music in a while. The words were ringing in my ears over and over, by the time the singer got to the chorus and Jake was just staring at me smiling.

Someday lady you'll acomp'ny me,
Out where rivers meet the soundin sea,
Your high above now you're wild and free,
Oh but someday lady you'll accomp'ny me,
Someday lady you'll accomp'ny me yeah.

I listened and was even beginning to relax, until the singer got to the next verse, and I saw a different light began to shine in Jake's eyes, then I started to feel uncomfortable, and I'll have to admit, a little scared.

I'll take the chances babe I'll risk it all,

I'll win your love or I'll take the fall,

I've made my mind up girl that it's meant to be,

Someday lady you'll accomp'ny me.

Either the song was a complete freaky coincidence, or Jake had a deal with the radio station. What were the odds that this song would play at exactly that moment? What were the odds? Don't tell me that this is some sort of sign or something, I thought. I can't even begin to think like this. I know where it got me the first time. But maybe things were different this time.

After the song finished an advertisement came on, so I thought it was a good time to change the subject.

"Now it's my turn. Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure. What's on your mind?" He asked, trying to rein in the smile that was still lingering on his lovely face.

"Yesterday when you were working on the truck, you were humming, then started singing a song, in a different language. What was that?"

He looked down at my hand that he was still holding and seemed to be embarrassed, then he focused thoughtfully on the steering wheel in front of him.

"That is a song I learned when I was little. My mom taught it to me. She and I would sing it when we were alone. I find myself singing it, or humming the tune a lot when I'm concentrating on something."

"So what is the song called?"

Without thinking it seemed, he shifted and placed one arm around my shoulders and then held my hand with his free hand, letting our hands rest on his lower thigh. I didn't want to pull away, seeing how he was talking about something so personal at the moment, so I just sat still and waited.

"I couldn't sing that song for a long time after she died, it hurt too much. But, after a while, I found that it was nice to remember, that way I could always keep her memory close to me. The song is called The Blessing Of Love."

I was so touched by what he was sharing, that I couldn't help myself, as I reached out with my other hand and took his hand in both of mine, and began to softly caress it. I had known that his mom had been killed in a car accident when he was a little boy that is also how his dad, Billy had wound up in a wheelchair. I remembered my dad telling me about it, when he had called me that summer, because I hadn't come to visit him that year.

Then he continued, "it translates something like if you find love, hold onto for it, for it is special and sacred. That you have been favored, because some never find it. Something like that."

He was silent then for a while, like he was in deep thought, then he looked down at my hands wrapped around his and squeezed them gently, before turning his gaze to meet mine. We smiled at each other and I felt at that moment we had this connection with each other, one of understanding and tenderness that I knew would grow to be special, but was I ready for that.

We sat in the truck and talked for over an hour. It didn't matter what we talked about. It just felt good to be with Jake, nothing to hide, just the two of us, together being friends. Yeah, just being friends.

"Well, I better get under the hood and see if the engine has cooled down," Jake finally said, however I noticed he was lingering.

He finally climbed out of the cab and I followed. He began checking various things under the hood then walked over to his work bench and it looked as though he was writing something down. He came back to where I was standing and handed me the folded slip of paper.

"Can you stop by the auto parts store tomorrow on your way down? I need a few things so I can finish the tune up."

"Sure. I guess the man at the store will know what you need?"

"Yeah. I've given him the specifics. He'll know," he said, giving me a quick wink, before going back to work on the truck. He used various wrenches to tighten things here and there, he checked the various belts, the fluid level of the radiator, and the air filter. Then he lay down on his back, holding the front bumper, and slid himself underneath the truck.

I stood there, leaning against the truck for a while, watching his legs move occasionally almost in tune with whatever noise he made underneath the truck.

"Jake, how long have you been working on motors and stuff?"

"Oh, as long as I can remember. Me, Quil, and Embry usually spend our summers working on everyone's vehicles down here on the rez. It helps them out and we enjoy the work."

"You seem very good at what you do."

With that comment, he slid out from under the truck, peered up at me with the purest, darkest eyes, grinned and replied, "why thank you very much."

He held out his hand and I helped pull him up. Actually, it was more like he almost pulled me down. As he pulled is hand away, he noticed he had gotten a grease spot on my palm, so he took the red mechanic's rag from his back pocket and gently rubbed it away.

"Well, I guess that's about all I can do today. I'll need the things on the list to finish the tune up."

"Okay then. I probably need to get home. I have homework to do," I said, sliding my hands in the back pockets of my jeans, looking down at the floor, and twisting from side to side.

Why was I doing that? I suppose it was because I really didn't want to go home, but I knew it was getting late, but before I could say anything else, Jake was the one who spoke up.

"You can't leave yet. My dad said he wanted to see you when you came down today. Can't you stay and visit for just a little longer?"

"Okay, I guess I can stay just a bit longer."

I pulled my hands out of my pockets and before I knew it Jake had me by the hand and we were running toward his house. We were laughing by the time reached the front porch and even as he opened the front door.