Chapter 5—Challenging the Impossible

Magic lies in challenging what seems impossible.

Carol Moseley Braun

Bella's POV

Grandfather led me away and toward a private office. The clan coat of arms was hung on the door, and it was a comfort to see it again. I touched the wood bearing the emblem a moment as he instructed the guard to let no one inside until further notice. When the door clicked closed, I turned to face him, noticing he had aged greatly since I last saw him.

"How do you know Edward?" I asked.

"What, no 'I've missed you'?"

"I did miss you. You should have gathered that from my hug."

A deep, rumbling laugh escaped him. "That, lass, I gathered. It's still it nice to hear the words."

I grinned at him, taking a seat before a cozy, roaring fire. It was a comfort I missed during my time with Jacob. "So … how do you know him?" I asked again.

"Do you know what he does for a living?" he countered.

"No. I recall Dad talking about him, but can't remember if he ever said what Edward did."

Grandfather rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, for starters, he's a producer."

"Producer?"

"Movies, music, and several television shows."

I felt my mouth drop open. "And that's for starters?"

"Yes. He's also a financial advisor."

"Oookay. But that doesn't tell me how you met."

"Your father suggested I speak with Edward about some investments I wanted to make."

I stared into the fire as a memory hit me.

"Malcolm, all I'm saying is to speak to Edward before putting money into a risky stock," Dad said as I came into the house after school.

I stopped listening. Edward?

"I'll think about it."

"Well, you better think fast. He'll be here in a half hour." Dad turned, seeing me.

"Angela and I are heading to Port Angeles to see a movie," I said. "We'll grab a bite to eat on the way."

"What time will you be home?"

"Around ten."

I wiped my eyes. That was the last time I had seen my dad. "What did Edward tell you?" I asked, switching subjects.

"Lass, are you okay?"

"The day you first met Edward—"

"Christ! I'd forgotten."

"It's all right. What did he tell you?"

"That you were alive and with a doctor," he responded, setting sad on me as he sat across from me. "And that you had fainted."

I pulled my lower lip between my teeth. Sure, Grandfather had heard that. Edward probably told him after showing him the amulet. "I don't think it means anything other than I was tired, scared, and in pain." I held up my wrapped wrist.

"Edward told me but didn't say how you injured it."

"I misunderstood something, ran, and fell." I shrugged. "I'm still as klutzy as ever."

Grandfather chuckled. "I guess so."

We both fell quiet for a long time. The silence was a little uncomfortable, but nice. It gave Grandfather a chance to collect his thoughts and me time to do the same.

"Who was holding you captive?" His voice was thick with emotion, making it a little harder to understand him, but I did.

I swallowed. The question surprised me, and it shouldn't have. I just wasn't expecting him to dive right in like that.

"Jacob Black," I said slowly, afraid of the reaction the name would evoke.

Grandfather fisted his hands. "He was questioned several times," he said through clenched teeth. "Each time he denied having seen you, having been involved in my wounds, and having killed your parents."

"And he'll probably continue to deny any and all involvement in my captivity. The only person who would testify against him was shot and most likely died." I wiped angrily at my eyes. I had lost so much.

"Was this person in Jacob's employ?"

"Yes, but he was an ally. He helped me to finally escape."

"And was that how you met Edward? After you escaped?"

"No. I met Edward the night before, on September 12, at Driftwood Bar. He offered to help me. I was scared and ran from him, thinking Jacob was testing me."

Grandfather leaned over and took my hands in his much larger ones. "Isabella, I would have run, too. Edward is, was, a stranger to you."

I swallowed again, pulling my hands away. "That's only part of the reason I ran. Each time I was out with one of Jacob's henchman, I crafted a spell to repel those who would do me harm. Edward was the first outsider to breach it, ever. That should have clued me in that he was different."

Grandfather sat back and scratched his bristly face. "That's … interesting. Go on."

I huffed out a breath. "Last night, I returned to the bar with my ally. I asked one of the bartenders if a purse had been found. After it was returned to me, I opened it and found a business card and cell phone inside."

He raised his hand, stopping my story. "Whose business card?"

"Edward's. I called from the restroom. I got scared again when Edward was not only at the bar, but knew where I was." I paused, gazing at Grandfather. "He was outside the restroom when I exited. He told me he was an idiot, and that he wasn't in the employment of my captor. I cowered in his arms when I heard Jacob shouting. Shots rang out not long after he had me in the safety of the owner's office."

"How did Edward find out?"

"My actions, a note I'd placed in my handbag, and by talking with me before I hung up on him."

I fell silent, lowering my head. There was nothing more I could tell Grandfather about how I met Edward.

"Did Jacob harm you in any way?"

I smiled, recalling Edward's reaction when he asked a similar question. "Physically … no. Emotionally … yes."

Grandfather got up and started pacing. He made a couple of passes before asking, "How emotionally?"

"He told me you were dead. He wouldn't let me sleep on a bed, among other things."

Grandfather threw his fist into the wall, causing dust to fly and frames to rattle. He was seething. "Anything else?" he spat out, facing me again and shaking his hand. I noticed his knuckles were bloody as he took out his handkerchief, wrapping it around them.

I shook my head, staring at the hole in the wall. "I believe I'm still in danger. There are things I know, and because of that, Jacob will be looking for me. He'll do anything to get me back."

"I know. We'll figure out what to do to keep you safe. First, there's the matter of the amulet to analyze."

Leaning back, I closed my eyes. I thought again about what Edward touching it could conceivably mean. "I've been thinking about that since Edward's fingers closed around it. The only thing that comes to my mind is that he and I are soul—"

"Impossible," Grandfather said, sitting back down heavily. "He's much older than you."

My eyes popped open. "If not that, then what other explanation is there? And why should his age matter?"

Grandfather glared at me long and hard. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

"Well," I hedged.

His eyebrows rose in question.

"I feel there's the potential that something could grow between him and me," I said, fingering the amulet. "He's kissed me twice on the lips and a few times on the cheek."

Grandfather's eyes went wide, and he turned to the door, peering at it as if he could see through it all the way to where Edward sat.

"Yeah, that was my reaction—disbelief. I asked him why, and he couldn't answer. There's just something about him, something that seems to be pulling me to him."

Grandfather scratched his chin. "That settles things in my mind."

"Huh?"

"You're in danger. Getting you out of the country will take some time and a lot of red tape. If we believe what the amulet is telling the both of us, Edward is the only one who can keep you safe, protect you."

I gulped. Yes, I felt safe with Edward and was willing to stay with him, but I wasn't sure if he would open his home to me. My mind wandered to how things would progress between Edward and me if he agreed to protect me. I smiled at the endless possibilities—cuddling on the couch while watching a movie or reading, dining together, laughing, and traveling.

"… and escort Mr. Cullen back," Grandfather said into the receiver.

I broke free of my thoughts. I hadn't seen him move over to the desk or pick up the phone.

"I was going to ask that you give Edward and me some time to talk alone," Grandfather said, coming out from behind the desk. "But I want you to be present when I ask him to protect you. Plus, I need to see how he behaves around you."

Edward's POV

"Mr. Cullen."

I lowered the Wall Street Journal and peered over it at an older lady with grey hair.

"Yes?" I answered.

"Laird McCullough would like to speak with you," she said, indicating that I should follow her.

Laird McCullough? I thought as I got up to follow. I was shown to a private office flanked by two armed, kilted guards. Gold, royal blue, and silver; they wore the McCullough colors. A crest of a hand holding an arrow over a knight's helmet with the words "Vi Et Animo" was on the oak door. I searched my memory for the translation of the Latin phrase—"by strength and courage."

"Why does the laird want to speak with me?" I asked as the guards crossed the spears they were holding, blocking our entrance.

"I don't know." She glared at the young boys. "Lads, let us by."

"We were told not to let anyone pass," one answered.

"Let us pass," she said again. There was a strange layering to her voice, like another was saying the same thing in a lower voice.

It was puzzling, and I was surprised when the guards uncrossed the spears, allowing us to enter the office. Malcolm was leaning against the desk.

"Tea will be right in, my laird." My escort curtsied before leaving.

"Laird?" I raised an eyebrow in Malcolm's direction.

"Titles are superficial things, but yes." He motioned for me to take a seat.

I glanced around the small office, looking for Bella. She hadn't come out—at least to my knowledge—but then I was eye deep in stock market figures. My eyes landed on her. She was curled up in a high-backed chair next to the fireplace. My heart soared at the smile she gave me, and I knew I would do anything to see that smile again.

I was just sitting on the leather couch when the door opened and a young serving girl came in with a tray. She set it on a side table and offered me the first cup of tea she'd poured. I motioned her to serve Bella first.

"Tea, my lady," she said in a small, soft voice.

"Thank you. It's Bridget, right?" Bella asked, reaching out and taking the offered cup and saucer.

"Aye, my lady."

Bella glanced my way and blushed when she noticed I was staring at her.

Beautiful.

The clearing of a throat had me turning my attention back to Malcolm. He was shaking his head and chuckling. He said something in Gaelic to the maid that I wasn't able to translate. I knew a few phrases, but I didn't recognize a single word of what he was saying.

"I'm not going to beat around the bush, Edward. Isabella is in danger. Jacob might be looking for her."

My head fell. That wasn't something I wanted to consider, but I knew it was a possibility. The thought of Bella being hunted by Jacob didn't sit well with me. Something inside me demanded that I protect her from him, from anyone who would harm her. "Will she be going to Scotland, then?" I asked, lifting my head to take in his expression.

He shook his head. "It's not safe for her to travel, even through private means." He gave me a meaningful look.

I knew what he was implying and asking at the same time. Will I protect Bella? "You don't even have to ask," I found myself saying. "Jacob won't connect me to her. If he does, I won't let him lay a finger on her."

"You-you can't … mean that," Bella said.

I swung my head in her direction. She was staring at me in wide-eyed puzzlement.

"What?"

"'I won't let him lay a finger on her' is what you said," Malcolm stated.

Hell! Why do I keep saying things that I wouldn't under normal circumstances?

I ran a hand through my hair.

The strange thing is I meant it last night and still do.

"Why is that so hard to believe?" I asked, my gaze still on Bella.

She looked from me to her grandfather, seemingly having a silent conversation with him. When she returned her eyes to me, her lip was caught between her teeth.

I was suddenly jealous of her teeth again. And again, my jealousy was irrational, but I so wanted it to be my teeth nibbling on her lip.

"It's not," she said, drawing my eyes to hers again. "I just had to ask."

"Fair enough." I gave her a crooked smile, and she returned it with a breathtaking one. It was hard, but I managed to turn my attention back to Malcolm. "Will she need additional security?"

"No. Doing so will draw attention to her," he answered. "And she shouldn't hide, but at the same time, she shouldn't go out alone."

I nodded. That much was obvious. Our pending shopping trip came to mind. I'd have to call and see if Alice could meet us; Esme had texted me saying she wouldn't be able to make it. Her client wasn't budging and wanted a complete color change before they would approve the makeover. I had sent a message back saying that I understood and asked her to prepare the room next to mine, providing a list of things I wanted in the room, if she had the time. I hadn't known why I made the request, but subconsciously I knew Bella would be returning with me.

Malcolm moved around the desk. "I don't know why I did, but while I was waiting for you to arrive, I made a few calls. This"—he held up a diamond credit card—"has been authorized for you both to use. I have a feeling Isabella is going to need clothes and other necessities. Edward, I would like you to sign for all purchases. If need be, have any online purchases sent here or to your office."

"Of course," I said, surprised he'd made arrangements before knowing I'd agree to protect his granddaughter.

"Now, Isabella, this"—he held up a card trimmed in silver and gold—"will get you and two guests in to see an exclusive designer."

"He's in town," Bella said in reverence.

"Yes, and he has been made aware of certain things. I'll call him again with further details."

"It would be wise," Bella said.

The way they were talking was giving me a headache as I tried to figure out what they were saying. "Who's this designer?"

Bella turned and looked at me with her lip between her teeth once again. "Um …"

"I'll find out sooner or later," I pointed out, picking up my cup. The tea was probably cold, but it would do to wet my dry throat.

"Ian McGregor," Malcolm stated.

I sputtered, spraying out the sip I had just taken. "Ian McGregor!" Alice had been trying for years to get an invitation to view his collections, and Bella was being given one. I got up and walked out of the office, holding up my cell phone when Malcolm asked where I was going.

"Hey, Edward," Alice answered.

"Do you want to go shopping?"

"You want to go shopping? Is something wrong with you?"

"No. I can't really explain."

"Try."

"Do you remember the young woman you returned a purse to last night?"

"Yes."

"Well, she's going to be staying with me for a while and needs to purchase a whole lot of things. She could use some help."

"Why is she staying with you?"

"It's … complicated. And I don't have time to explain. Please, don't ask me again."

"Fine. I'll go. Can you pick me up?"

"That won't be possible. We're downtown. Call for a taxi, and have it billed to my account. Meet us at Ian McGregor's shop."

"Yeah, right! How are you going to get in?"

"Just meet us there in an hour."

"Fine," she huffed. "See you then."

I walked back into the office. Bella and Malcolm had their heads bent close together.

"You're right, lass. There's definitely something about him."

Are they talking about me?

I cleared my throat. "Sorry," I said when they turned to me. "I had to make a call and wanted to catch my sister."

Bella smiled. "Not a problem. Are you ready to go?"

I bobbed my head up and down. "My sister, Alice, is going to meet up with us."

"Oh!" Confusion marred Bella's beautiful face, wrinkling her forehead.

"Esme is unable to get away. I didn't tell Alice anything other than where to meet us." I resisted the urge to go to her and wipe the confusion off her face.

Bella nodded as she and Malcolm stood. After a giving her grandfather a brief hug, she and I were off.

A/N: Thanks to jennej and Jcat5507 for editing this chapter.

The McCullough Coat of Arms is posted on my blog. The link is on my profile and is labeled Last Chance.