Chapter 2—Kindness is Given, not Repaid

Kind hearts are the gardens, Kind thoughts are the roots, Kind words are the flowers, Kind deeds are the fruits, Take care of your garden And keep out the weeds, Fill it with sunshine, Kind words, and Kind deeds.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (Nursery Rhyme)

A/N: Thanks for all the wonderful reviews. This chapter picks up where Chapter 1 ended.

Bella's POV

"I'm Edward Cullen."

My jaw dropped open.

I hadn't read the business card fully—only enough to ascertain his first name and phone number. A cell phone had also been inside in my handbag, and it had delivered the mysterious stranger's—well, Edward's message clearly; call me. Not one to disappoint, I had made the call from the ladies' room after I had committed the number to memory and disposed of the card by tearing it up and flushing it. I had planned on telling the bartender I had found the cell in the hallway, but Edward had surprised me, instead.

What shocked me was that I knew his name, knew who he was—somewhat. My father had spoken of Cullen Enterprises and the talented young president often. I couldn't recall exactly what Cullen Enterprises did; but I was sure that, if I asked Edward, he'd tell me. I was afraid to ask, terrified about how he'd react.

I never imagined when I woke up this morning that I would be sitting in a car with Edward Cullen, billionaire extraordinaire, or that he was serious about helping me. Walking into Driftwood Bar weeks ago had seemed like a bad idea. No one had ever approached me besides the bartender—but I'd made sure of that with a simple protection spell. Plus, I was no one special … well, in an attractive way. Then last night, and in what I'd thought was my last escape attempt for a while, Edward had extended his offer of help without knowing anything about me or my situation. Then there was the fact that he'd kissed me—I didn't understand why he had, and my confusion only increased when he had kissed me again a few minutes ago.

I snapped out of my surprise and took his hand, shaking it. "Isabella Swan. I prefer Bella."

"It's nice to meet you, Bella, and happy birthday."

The way he said my name was like a caress that sent chills of delight through me. Somehow, it reminded me of the heroes I used to watch in old movies. "Thank you."

"Now, let's get back on the road," he said, winking at me.

My face heated as he settled back behind the steering wheel. He seemed so relaxed, whereas I was a nervous mess. I wasn't sure how to act. I knew I should be grateful that he was saving me, and I was, but I was scared as well.

"Since I know today is your birthday, it's only fair that you know when mine is." He paused and glanced over at me. "June 20," he announced, turning back to the road.

I studied his profile—high cheekbones, a bit scruffy, and hair in a disarrayed mess. I wished I could see his eyes—they'd tell me much about him, the man who had broken through my protection spell.

"Hmm, let's see, what else? I haven't always been a Cullen. I was born Masen. My parents died in a car crash when I was two years old. My adoptive parents tell me that I bounced from foster home to foster home for a year before being placed with them. Carlisle and Esme Cullen fell in love with me and started the adoption process."

"Adopted? I'd never heard that about you." I said in a shy voice.

"It's not something I tell everyone."

Why was he telling me? I was going to ask when he started talking again.

"I don't know why I'm telling you all this, but I can't seem to stop," he replied, as if he could read my mind. "I have four adoptive siblings. Jasper and Alice—while they're finishing college, they bartend at Driftwood, and they're dating—and Emmett and Rosalie—they're married. Rosalie owns the bar. Emmett's in the FBI."

"Is that even legal? I mean, for your siblings to date and marry each other." I wanted to slap my hand over my mouth.

He chuckled at my outburst; it confused me.

"Yes. They don't share a common parent and weren't raised from infancy together. Carlisle and Esme adopted Rosalie when I was eight. Emmett right before I turned ten. Last, Alice and Jasper when I was fifteen years old. It took a while for Emmett and Rosalie to hook-up, but Alice and Jasper were already dating when Carlisle and Esme adopted them."

"Are you the oldest?" My hand twitched, and the urge to cover my mouth was getting harder to resist.

"No. Rosalie is two months older. Age-wise: it's Rosalie, me, Emmett, Jasper, and Alice."

I bit my lip, trying to prevent myself from asking another question. Jacob always hated it when I did and told me if he wanted me to know something, he would tell me.

"Ask," Edward said.

"Huh," I said, turning my head to look at him.

"Whatever question that has you gnawing your lip—ask it."

How in the world did he know?

"Please, Bella. Ask."

"How old are you?"

"Thirty-three."

I caught the slight smile that graced his face. That smile made me brave. I smiled tentatively, and asked, "Is it really okay if I ask you questions?"

I heard the leather on the steering wheel squeak again, and I chanced a glance it. Edward's knuckles were white. Had I made him mad?

"Of course you can. How else are we going to get to know each other?"

"Jacob didn't like when I did."

I heard a muttered curse, but I couldn't decipher what Edward said. With my lip between my teeth, I looked up at him once more. His jaw was clenched and he was breathing hard through his nose, reminding me of a fire-breathing dragon. I took a gamble when I reached over, touching his knee. I was just beginning to pray he wouldn't yell at me for touching him when his hand covered mine. His features had relaxed.

"I'm not like him. If you have a question, ask and I'll answer—if I have an answer, that is." He laughed.

His laugh was musical and deep; I couldn't help it, I giggled. I had a wealth of questions for him and couldn't wait to get started. I decided to get the hardest one out of the way first. "Why did you …" I swallowed hard, not knowing how to ask.

"Why did I what?" He caught my eye when he glanced over at me. "Come on, you can ask. There's no such thing as a dumb question."

"I've heard that before. Though, the only dumb question is the one left unasked."

He shook his head and chuckled again. "I've not heard that. So, your question," he prodded.

"Why did you approach me last night?"

"Honestly," he started. "I don't know. The same goes for why I kissed you."

He knocked out two questions with one answer. Okay, what was the logical next question? "Why did you offer to help me?"

"The way you pleaded with me to back off. There was something in your voice and eyes that told me you were in a situation you couldn't get out of. The way you ran from me didn't help, either. Then there's the note I found when I was looking for your ID," he explained, his eyes drifting from the road to me a time or two.

"Oh!" I exclaimed. I'd forgotten about the note; I'd written it a long time ago. "Well, that certainly explains how your business card and cell got in my purse. I'm sorry I dropped your phone. You scared me."

"No worries. I was getting ready to replace it."

"I'll replace it. I'm the one who broke it."

"It was my fault you dropped it." He gave my hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it to turn.

I looked out the windshield, and we were blocked by a big iron gate. Was this where he lived—a gated community?

The cold night air wafted in through the window Edward rolled down. I shivered, rubbing my arms. The light jacket I had on was barely keeping me warm, but it was the only one I had, the only one Jacob allowed me.

"Ms. Cope, it's me. I forgot my clicker at the office again. Could you please buzz me in?"

"Certainly, Mr. Cullen."

The iron gates slowly creaked open. "I should warn you. My house is quite large."

Edward drove slowly up the long driveway, taking hold of my hand again. I blinked when the stone house and fountain came into view. It was the biggest house I'd ever been to, and I hadn't even seen the inside. I couldn't help comparing it to the home I grew up in; it would probably fit inside four or five times.

"It was styled after a French chateau," Edward said, amusement in his tone at what must have been my awed expression.

I turned and faced him.

Edward laughed, his shoulders shaking. "That's a reaction I've never gotten before. Then again, I don't bring guests here often."

I didn't know what to say to that. "So, you've never brought a girl here?"

"Before you," he stated, stroking his thumb along my palm, "only my sisters and mom."

I was suddenly frightened again. Was he expecting me to sleep with him? To pay him for helping me in a sexual way?? "Stop the car. Let me out," I said, whimpering and snatching my hand back.

He did as I asked. I was out of the car and running before he could stop me. I had no idea where I was going, but I had to get away from him. Batting away leaf-covered branches, I berated myself. How could I have been so stupid? Accepting his offer. Getting into the car with him. I didn't know him. I knew better than to get into a car with a stranger, candy or no.

"Bella!" I heard Edward shout. "Isabella!"

There was crunching of gravel and a snap of a twig from behind me as he gave chase. I sped up with tears coursing down my cheeks. I stumbled when I looked behind me, seeing a beam of light getting closer by the second. I slipped on wet leaves and my arms flew out in front of me in an effort to break my fall. There was a loud pop when my hands hit the ground. I screamed as pain shot through my right hand and up my arm.

I was on my knees, cradling my right hand to my chest and still crying when a hand came down on my shoulder. I jumped and swung my head around and came eye to eye with Edward.

"Let me help you up, and then I'd like to have a look at your wrist," Edward said. He wasn't a bit winded and that puzzled me.

His arms came around me, and I tried to free myself from his hold.

"I don't want your help," I protested half-heartedly, even though I knew I'd need his help getting up.

"May I please see your hand?" he asked once I was on my feet.

He held out his hand, giving me the choice to show him or not, much like he had earlier. It was as if he knew of my phobia. I couldn't bear the thought of someone touching me, not with how I had been taken from my home three years ago.

I sighed and placed my right hand in his. He pulled the flashlight out of his pocket and held it in his mouth as he turned my hand this way and that, taking care not to cause me further discomfort. "I don't think it's broken, but I should take you to get it X-rayed. First, we'll go to the house and get some ice. In the meantime, try to keep it up above your heart."

I nodded, following him as he led the way back to his car. My shoulders slumped in defeat. Like Jacob, he'd given chase; unlike Jacob, he seemed concerned that I'd hurt myself.

"What made you run?" he asked when we were back in the car, driving further toward the house.

I asked a question instead of answering his. "What do you expect from me as payment?"

He stopped the car in front of house, shut off the ignition, and turned to look at me. "Nothing, nothing at all." His left hand came up, as if to caress my face, but he stopped himself when I cringed. "Why would you ask that?"

I didn't answer, nor did I move away from his outstretched hand.

"Anyone who makes you repay a kindness is a fool," he whispered.

I got lost in his green eyes a moment before he turned away. My mind was whirling, trying to picture the Wiccan color magic chart that had hung in my childhood bedroom, and searching for the color's meaning—safety. There was little doubt in the meaning. I would be safe with him, and from his actions so far, I felt I could trust him.

Edward got out of the car and came around, helping me out.

"Thanks," I said with a blush when his hand moved to the small of my back.

A large, red-haired woman wearing glasses opened the front door. "Good evening, Mr. Cullen," she greeted. Her small eyes moved to me. Her mouth made an 'O' of surprise as she took me in before returning her gaze to Edward, eyebrow raised in question.

"Ms. Cope, allow me to introduce Bella Swan. Bella, this is my housekeeper Ms. Cope."

"It's nice to meet you," I said in a shaking, pain-filled voice. My wrist was throbbing, and I could barely keep it up.

"Oh my! Edward, she's hurt. Go fetch some ice and aspirin."

I swayed when Edward stepped away from me. Oh, no. Not again. The room spun once as everything went dark.

~ L.C. ~

I moaned and rolled onto my side, slowly opening my eyes. Soft light illuminated a corner, and I saw someone sleeping in a chair with their feet propped up on an ottoman. A book was lying open and was moving up and down on the chair's occupant's chest as they breathed. From my position on the bed—

Bed?

Jacob was going to kill me. That was his only rule. I was never to sleep in his bed, and his was the only bed. I could sleep anywhere else, but never in his bed. I scrambled off it, stumbling and falling to the floor with a loud cry.

I heard a thump that could only be the book. I looked over to see whoever was guarding me get up from the chair. My heart beat wildly in my chest. I had to get out of here, I thought, crawling as fast as I could to get away. My injured arm made my movements awkward and not as quick as I would've liked.

"Bella! Stop before you injure yourself further." There was authority and concern in the voice.

I froze. That wasn't Jacob's voice, but it was a voice I was vaguely familiar with. Where was I? I searched my memory, replaying the last hours.

I sobbed in relief.

Edward.

I was safe.

Edward kneeled beside me. "Let's get you back in bed. I'm sure you shouldn't be out of it, not with how you fainted."

I gave him a brief smile as he scooped me up into his arms. "Put me down," I protested, albeit weakly. I didn't mind being in his arms.

"Sorry, love, that's not going to happen. My father will be here first thing in the morning."

I stiffened in his arms.

"Relax. He's a doctor, and he'll take good care of you."

I didn't relax. If anything I started to panic as Edward placed me on the bed. Doctors couldn't be trusted. They were deceitful and liked to hurt me, especially in the past three years. Edward wasn't Jacob, I reminded myself. He'd shown me nothing but kindness and wouldn't let anyone hurt me. Still, I couldn't let myself trust that his dad would be any different from the last doctor Jacob had taken me to see.

I stilled and heard a muffled one-sided conversation as Edward rubbed … my back? Realization dawned on me slowly—I was cradled against his chest.

"… don't know what to do … Apparently, she's scared of something, Dad."

I went rigid against Edward. His dad. The doctor. Was he here and just not responding?

"Okay, I'll try that. See you in the morning," he said.

Edward didn't say anything for a long time. He seemed content to just hold me. His gentle caress on my back was enough to lull me to sleep, almost. I did start to relax little by little.

"Bella," he whispered.

"Hmm."

"What are you scared of?" he asked softly.

"I don't trust doctors," I whispered.

"That's understandable," he said with a chuckle. "I don't trust dentists, but I still go."

I pulled back and regarded him. "What's wrong with dentists?"

"Rizzz, rizzz, rizz," he said, moving closer to me with a crooked index finger, imitating a dentist's drill.

A giggle erupted out of me. His hand cupped my cheek as I smiled at him.

"What's wrong with doctors?" he asked, as his thumb ran over the apple of my cheek.

I swallowed hard and tried to turn away from his intense green eyes, but his hand prevented me. "The last doctor caused me more pain than I was in," I mumbled.

"My father, Carlisle, isn't like that. He hates to see anyone in pain and tries to be as gentle as possible. He'll only cause a little pain to make a diagnosis." He motioned to my wrapped wrist.

I hadn't noticed it was bandaged and, at the moment, didn't hurt.

"Are you feeling any pain?" he asked.

I shook my head. "How?"

"Ms. Cope," he said as if that was all the explanation I needed.

I raised my eyebrow.

"Sorry. I forgot you don't know her. She was a nurse before she retired and became my housekeeper. She retrieved an anti-inflammatory cream I didn't know I had. Between rubbing that on your wrist, the bandage, and ice, she worked wonders," he said with a shrug.

I nodded. It was a foregone conclusion. The little treatment I had been given was enough to manage the pain.

"Oh, that reminds me," he said suddenly. "She told me to give you a couple of aspirin when you woke. In all the hubbub, I forgot." He picked up a small white cup from the nightstand and handed it to me. "I'll go get you some water to wash those down with."

While he was gone, I took in the room. It had a vintage feel to it, painted in a neutral color—a rich brown—and accented with lighter grays, golden tans, and creams. It was very inviting and masculine. A few large pictures hung on the walls. I was particularly taken with a framed old key on burlap, but it wasn't the key that caught my eye, it was the frame. The frame was dark grey and had spots where the original wood showed through.

My gaze swept over the other frames to the sitting area. A warm brown and tan wingback chair sat behind a matching ottoman. There was a cream blanket thrown haphazardly across it. The book that had been on Edward's chest before he awoke was steepled on the floor next to the chair. I tilted my head and could just make out the title, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.

Was Edward an avid reader?

"Do you like Sir Arthur Conan Doyle?" Edward asked, making me jump with a little "Eep!"

I hadn't heard him return. "I've read one of his novels. The Hound of the Baskervilles," I replied, accepting the open bottle of water. I quickly downed the two round pills.

"One of my favorites," he remarked, bending to pick up the book. "It's not in this compilation. This contains all his short stories." Edward settled on the ottoman, facing me while leaning back to place the book on the small table next to the chair. "Do you have a favorite author?"

"Not one in particular. I'm partial to Bronte, Austen, and Alcott."

"All great writers, and they're all part of my library."

I felt a smile spread across my face. I was sure there was a light in my eyes that hadn't been present for a long time. My fingers would soon be touching books, and not just any books, classics.

"I take it you like to read," Edward observed with a laugh.

"Yes. I wanted to study English literature, but that's looking less likely."

"Why?"

"I'm sure the university won't honor my scholarship," I said sadly.

"Which university?" he asked, leaning forward.

I stared at him. "Why do you want to know?" I countered.

"Call it curiosity."

"You do know that curiosity killed the cat," I remarked, playfully. If he really wanted to know, I would tell him.

The smile that graced his face reached his eyes, and they sparkled with his amusement. "I don't think asking can get me into trouble."

My mouth fell open. I was surprised, truly surprised. "No, it can't," I answered. I took a deep breath and exhaled. "The University of Oxford."

It was his turn to gape at me. "You got a scholarship to Oxford in England."

"Yes. Is it so hard to believe?"

"No, but it is hard to get into the university, let alone receive a scholarship."

"It wasn't that hard. Not for me," I said, slightly embarrassed. I was about to share with a virtual strange something that I'd told no one, not even my best friend—well, if I could still call Angela that.

"Go on," he encouraged.

"Let me ask you this first. Why don't you tell everyone your true family name?"

"Well," he started, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't want others to believe that my success was based on who my parents were. I got where I am today by my own merits, adding to the wealth they left me."

I smiled. This was going to be easier to tell Edward than if I were telling any of my former friends. I felt that I could definitely trust him. Heck, he might even know someone in the clan. "Okay, then. You'll understand, I think." I paused and blew out a breath. "I was born in Crail, Scotland."

Edward furrowed his brow, his eyes pinching together. "Crail, I know the name but I'm not placing it. What's near it?"

"Crail is in Fife. St. Andrews is the nearest neighbor."

"Fife, Fife," Edward said, scratching his head. "On the North Sea?"

"Yes."

"Hmm, I still can't place Crail. Doesn't matter, go on."

I bit my lip in thought, trying to decide how to proceed. "I lived at McCullough Castle until I was five. From there, my parents and I moved to the States, well, Forks, Washington, to be exact."

Again, Edward's face didn't register any recognition. "Were your parents servants?"

I grinned at the reasonable question. "No. I'm the granddaughter of Malcolm McCullough."

My announcement got a reaction from him. His eyes went wide before closing as his hands buried themselves in his hair. "Holy hell!" he said.

"You know the name," I stated.

"Yes. More importantly, I know Malcolm … personally. I haven't seen him in a couple of months, but—"

"He's alive!" I exclaimed.

Edward's eyes popped open. "Yes. He came to visit me right after his granddaughter—you—went missing."

"J-J-Jacob t-t-told me …" I buried my face in my hands. I thought my grandfather was dead, killed by Jacob or one of his men.

Edward took hold of my hands, and then I was in his arms. "Sshhh, it's going to be okay. Malcolm will be happy to see you."

I cried harder at hearing that.

When I woke again, having cried myself out against his supportive chest, he was lying on his side behind me, one arm slung over me in a protective way.

An odd sensation swept through me, and strangely, it wasn't fear. I felt safe and protected, but more importantly—I felt loved.

A/N: Thanks for reading. Reviews are always appreciated.