~1860~
Edward's parents had taught their children to be unfailingly polite. His sister, Alice, was taught to be a lady. The boys, Edward and Emmett, were taught to be gentleman, holding to decorum in every situation.
However, nothing in his parents' instruction had ever told him what to do when he ran into a semi-clothed young woman without an escort in the woods. Politeness dictated that he escort her back to the plantation house, but if they were seen exciting the trees together, her reputation would be sullied. It was outrageously unfair, as he would walk away from the ordeal unscathed.
Though, if he was being honest with himself, Edward would have to acknowledge that he was thinking of the rules of propriety to avoid thinking about other things.
Such as the fact there was a somewhat unclothed girl behind him.
The same girl he'd been eying almost all day with a twist in his belly and a warmth under his skin that he couldn't explain.
And he was, after all, a 17 year old boy.
"You can turn around. I'm decent," Bella said quietly. The annoyance from just a moment before was gone from her voice.
"I don't think that's a good idea," Edward muttered under his breath. He sighed, breathing deep. "I apologize for snapping at you. I was just worried. What if it were someone else out here in these woods waiting to prey on you?"
She huffed. "There are none around for miles but neighbors and friends. Besides, I've done this before. This is the first time I've run into anyone."
At this Edward did turn, curiosity winning out over his libido. "Why would you leave the women and girls?" He offered her a small smile. "Sometimes, I wish the men would also take a nap. It would do wonders for the temperament."
Bella snorted softly. "Temperament." She shook her head slightly. "I'm afraid to dispel your fancy. There is not so much sleep as there is gossip. To tell you the truth, if my father didn't require we attend these parties to keep up a friendly face with the neighbors, I wouldn't go."
Edward had to laugh, a little incredulous. He'd never heard of a girl who didn't like a party. "You seemed to be happy enough when you arrived," he observed.
She looked at him sharply, her cheeks flushing a pleasing pink, and Edward realized he'd spoken out of turn. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I should not have been staring so. It was rude."
"I thought I'd imagined it," she said in a small voice. "I couldn't figure why you would be looking at me." She furrowed her eyebrows a little in confusion. "I thought perhaps we knew each other, but then I didn't recognize you."
He laughed again, this time at himself. "So my rudeness continues." He bowed slightly at her, proffering a hand. "My name is Edward Cullen of Chicago."
A slow, oddly shy smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "I know who you are, Mr. Cullen. Gossip, remember? You're Jasper's roommate." She frowned and sighed. "Oh, I'm sure it's improper to admit to such things." She looked at him furtively. "It seems I'm just meant to make a complete fool of myself in front of you."
"Not at all, Miss Swan," he said, reaching out impulsively to touch her arm.
She looked up at him, again seeming shocked. "How did you know my name?"
At this he couldn't help but grin. "See? You aren't the only one being caught at gossiping. If you are foolish, then so am I, so we're on equal footing."
Her expression was uncertain but there was a spark of amusement in her dark eyes. "I missed Jasper. That's why I was so pleased when I arrived," she murmured, looking out over the river.
Inexplicably, Edward's heart twisted, his blood heating with an odd sort of anger. "You missed Jasper," he repeated, suddenly certain his friend had lied about his intentions toward Bella.
She must have heard the sharpness in his tone for she turned back to him, looking startled. "Oh, no. We're not... I mean, I don't..." She flushed, putting the back of her hand to her cheek. "Jasper has just been my best friend since I was eight years old. I've been worried for him is all."
"Worried?" he asked, his mood swinging to gentle concern again. Why it bothered him that this girl should know any amount of distress, he couldn't figure. "West Point is very safe."
"Yes, but for how long?" she asked with a sigh.
Again he reached out, touching her arm before he even realized he was moving. His fingers against her skin seemed to soothe an unnamed ache inside of him, and Edward found himself not caring that he was, perhaps, pushing his boundaries. "Rest easy, Miss Swan," he murmured. "Jasper is already a fine soldier." His eyebrows furrowed as he stepped back, away from her. His first impulse had been to assure her that he would always look out for his friend, but though he had pushed the thought to the very back of his mind, he had to acknowledge that should the nation go to war, he and Jasper would end up on opposite sides.
~1865~
When Edward stirred again, it was to a familiar voice. His body was taut with an automatic response, wanting to snap to.
It was an automatic reaction to be on high alert in the presence of that voice, and his muddy thoughts were making him anxious. He fought to wake, listening carefully to hear what his commanding officer - Lieutenant Benjamin Cheney - was talking about. Through four years of war, Edward had never disobeyed an order. He was not about to now, no matter what condition he was in.
"Mr. Whitlock -"
"It's Major Whitlock," Jasper's voice snapped.
"Major Whitlock," Lieutenant Cheney amended. "I don't mean to worry you and your family. I simply came to find out about the whereabouts of one of my men."
"Good. You can take him with you."
"Jasper!" Bella's voice protested. "Lieutenant, Sergeant Cullen is in good hands here. He is resting well, and I don't think it's wise to move him."
"Bella..." Jasper's voice was exasperated.
"I don't wish to cause problems between you and your husband, ma'am. We can arrange to move him -"
"You needn't worry about that, and I simply don't think it's wise," Bella interrupted. "Lieutenant, I can assure you Sergeant Cullen is in good hands here. He has been seen by a doctor who is a personal friend of mine, and he is recovering."
"Bella, don't you think you have enough to do?" Jasper's voice was still angry, but his tone was gentler as he spoke. "Let the Lieutenant take over. The Sergeant belongs in a hospital. Far away from here."
There was a pause, and Edward thought he heard Bella sigh. "Far be it from me to speak ill of those I worked along side during the war, but please believe me when I say he is better off here. Lieutenant Cheney, this man saved my life. I would prefer he didn't end up with an accidentally amputated leg."
With a groan of surprise, Edward finally found the strength to open his eyes. He blinked, trying to adjust to the brightness of the room.
"Well, if I can just see him," his commanding officer said, sounding dubious.
"Oh, of course. Jasper, will you take Peter, please?"
"Unlikely," Jasper said with a scoff. "You can't convince me to leave you alone with another Union soldier. This one is not as incapacitated as the other."
Edward felt a rush of annoyance and struggled to find his voice. Lieutenant Cheney was one of the most respectable men he knew, and it was his impulse to defend the senior officer's honor.
"Jasper!" Bella warned.
"No, ma'am. He's right," Lieutenant Cheney said quickly. "In his shoes, I would not leave you alone either."
There was another moment of silence and she must have acquiesced because when she spoke again, Bella's voice was resigned. "This way, Sir."
Taking a deep breath, Edward tried to at least sit up straighter, his automatic reaction to be at attention when his commanding officer stepped in the room. As he moved though, a sharp stab of agony coursed through his side, sending him flat on his back as he groaned.
"Edward?" Bella's worried voice reached him and he heard her quick footfalls as she darted to the bed. "What's happened?"
"I'm fine," he rasped, trying desperately to keep his pain under control. "Moved too quickly, is all." His eyes rolled over to find the Lieutenant in the door. "Sir..."
"At ease, soldier," Lieutenant Cheney commanded in a firm but soft voice. "It's good to see you alive, Sergeant Cullen. When we didn't hear from you for three days, we assumed the worst."
"Three days?" Edward cried and immediately regretted it. He couldn't swallow his low moan at the pain that wracked his body when he started.
"Here, I'll get something to help you," Bella said quickly.
"No," he managed through gritted teeth. The fact that he'd somehow lost three days was bad enough. He didn't want to go back to sleep - not yet. He lay still for a moment until the worst of the pain passed and opened his eyes again.
"Don't make things more difficult on yourself, Sergeant," the Lieutenant chided. "Taking a bayonet to the side is no simple scratch."
Edward huffed. "Is that what happened?"
"How much do you remember?" Bella asked, her voice soft with concern.
"I remember everything," he assured. "It just happened too fast for me to understand what it was that wounded me."
"Well, son. I'd say you did admirably," Cheney said, smiling. "That's how I found you. There was a wounded man at the hospital raising hell about a Union soldier who'd run him through with a sword. When he was questioned, he was eventually linked to the body that was found just down the road from here with a bullet in his head." He nodded to Bella. "You may be happy to know, Ma'am. We found the third man as well. He was a Confederate deserter." As he spoke this last he glanced at Jasper with a cool expression. Jasper's eyes narrowed slightly as he leaned on the door jamb, but he said nothing.
"That is a relief," Bella admitted, readjusting Peter on her hip. Edward noticed that she hugged the boy tight against her.
"We are doing our best to restore order," Cheney said with a sigh.
Jasper scoffed, the sound bitter. "If you had let us all alone, there would no be unrest," he said harshly. "Lawlessness was minimal around these parts, and now there's chaos."
"Now is not the time for these arguments," the Lieutenant snapped. "When Texas is admitted back to the Union, things will get better, but until that time we should all do the best we can."
He turned back to Edward. "We should let you rest. I'm going to arrange for your honorable discharge from service, Sergeant."
"Sir!" Edward protested, but Cheney held up a hand to silence him.
"You've done your duty and served your country well. Now, you should concentrate on healing so you can return to your family. You've a mother and sister to get home to, do you not?"
Edward's heart twisted and for a moment he missed his family so much he could scarcely breathe. Still, duty was all he knew. "And my brother," he allowed. "But as you say, sir, there is much to be done -"
"And we will find a way to do it without your assistance, Sergeant Cullen," Cheney said firmly. "No matter. It's time you rest. That's an order."
Frowning, Edward banged his head slightly against the pillow. "Yes, Sir."
Cheney nodded, affixing the hat he'd been carrying back on top of his head. "Major Whitlock? If you'll kindly escort me out?"
Jasper's eyes flicked between Bella and Edward, his jaw going rigid. Finally, he gave a short nod and gestured to the door.
When his commanding officer had gone, Edward felt exhausted again. He looked over as Bella carefully set Peter on the floor and stepped to his bedside. "You shouldn't get yourself into trouble with your husband over me, Mrs. Whitlock," he murmured as she pressed her cool palm to his forehead, probably checking him for fever.
She started and looked down at him, surprised. "Mrs. Whitlock?" She gave a short laugh and fetched a glass from the nightstand. "Drink slowly," she directed as she slipped an arm around him, helping steady him as he drank. "Jasper and I are not married, Sergeant."
Edward said nothing as he rested back again. He didn't think it was appropriate to express his sudden happiness at her words.
"I didn't know that you recognized me. Us," she said with a small smile.
"Of course I did," he mumbled, fighting the urge to go back to sleep. "That summer... that day, sticks out in my mind quite a lot."
She looked down, concentrating on wetting a cloth with cool water, but he could see her cheeks were tinged red. Obviously, she remembered that afternoon as well.
He wondered if it was wise to remind her of his impropriety.
Before Edward could think of something to break their silence, he was distracted as a curious Peter stepped toward him, two fingers shoved into his mouth and twirling a long feather between the fingers of his other hand. He looked wary, but took another step closer and stretched his little hand out to touch Edward with the feather.
"Well, hello there," Edward said softly, smiling at the child. He had the odd urge to hold his hand out, as if the boy might sniff it like a dog to gauge his trustworthiness. He knew nothing of small children, and this one, with his deep blue eyes and unearthly silence unnerved him. "What's your name?" he asked even though he knew.
The child just blinked at him.
"He doesn't speak," Bella said softly. Her expression was sad as she put the cloth to Edward's skin, scrubbing his face with gentle motions. "He used to, but he has been silent since..."
"Since?" Edward prompted, offering the boy a finger just to see what he'd do with it.
They both watched as Peter took the fingers he'd had in his mouth and wrapped that hand around Edward's offered digit. She laughed lightly at the way Edward scrunched his nose in vague disgust. With a sigh, she bent so she was near his ear under the guise of scrubbing the back of his neck. "Since his mother died," she said lowly.
"Peter! You get away from that man," Jasper's harsh voice made them all turn. He crossed the room, a furious expression on his face, and yanked the boy into his arms. "Keep your hands off my son," he demanded, glaring at Edward.
"I wasn't -" Edward began, but Jasper cut him off.
"I don't give a good g -"
"Jasper Whitlock, you better not think about finishing that sentence in front of your child," Bella said, staring at the blond man with her hands on her hips. "Look, I understand your opinions on the matter, but I don't give a lick about them. Your Momma taught you better than to be rude to a guest, no less a guest of mine in my house. The decision to hover around here like a fly on a horse's rear end was your own. You are perfectly welcome to leave."
Upset by all the angry voices, Peter stuck his fingers in his mouth again and whimpered, clutching his father's shirt anxiously.
"You see? The Sergeant wasn't upsetting him, but you have. Honestly. Even if he wanted to, do you really think I would let anyone hurt Peter?" Bella groused, going back to her task of cleaning Edward's skin.
Edward swallowed hard, both trying to keep his temper in check and trying to fight the ever encroaching tiredness. "War or none, Jasper. You've never been my enemy."
Jasper just scoffed, bouncing his son lightly in one arm while he pointed at Edward with another. "You just keep your hands to yourself, understand? That goes for both of them," he said, his eyes landing on Bella. Without another word, he strode back out of the room, taking the boy with him.
With a groan that was both frustration and anger, Edward again sank back against his pillow. "My God..." Between fighting the fatigue and fighting the pain, he had nothing left in him to fight the tears that welled then, and they spilled over, making twin tracks on his cheeks. "He is so changed."
Bella bit her lip, her expression matching the terrible sadness he felt. She gently wiped his cheeks with the cloth, cleaning away the dirt and the two tears he'd shed, leaving only a trail of coolness against his skin. "The war changed us all, but sometimes I believe Jasper suffered much more than his fair share."
Edward bit back a retort, thinking of his father and brother. His father had been killed and Emmett so badly wounded that he'd lost most of his left arm.
It often seemed that not a single person in the nation had come away unscathed. They had all lost much, and Edward wanted to believe that were he in Jasper's place, he would never have treated the other man as if he were a bloodthirsty monster - as if he harmed the child by merely touching him.
Still, he tried to breathe through his annoyance and self-righteousness, remembering all he'd seen and experienced during the war. He had no idea what Jasper's story was. Remembering the boy he'd been - so open and charismatic - he could only surmise that whatever it was, it had warped the other man's soul.
None of them were the people they'd been four years before.
"The boy's mother, she was Jasper's wife?" he guessed aloud, distracting himself by watching the way Bella undid the buttons of his night shirt. It did wonders to calm his anger: reveling in her soft touch as she carefully down his chest and around his wounds.
Bella nodded, and Edward thought she might be blushing again, though she was diligently working through that. "Maria," she confirmed.
"Maria," Edward repeated, remembering the way Jasper had looked, watching the gorgeous Spanish girl out on the dance floor. "How did she die?"
Bella's hand faltered for a moment. She breathed deep, turning to dip the cloth back in the basin. "It was six months ago. Jasper still owned the plantation house, and Maria lived there with Peter, Jasper's mother, Miss Lucy, and what few servants were left." She paused, and Edward noticed her hands were trembling.
Without thinking, Edward reached out, putting his hand over hers. "Miss Swan... If you cannot say..."
"No," Bella shook her head. She wiped away a tear that had gathered at the corner of her eye and set about her task again. "It's difficult because I was the one who found them. I still see them when I close my eyes... all the blood..."
For a moment she looked haunted, her features pale. When she spoke again, her voice was far away. "He'd already killed Miss Lucy. She was out on the lawn with one of the servants just..sprawled and bloody and still..." She sniffled, putting a hand to her cheek as she remembered. "I don't know what I was thinking. I don't suppose I was thinking at all. I just knew that I had to... If he'd hurt the baby..."
"Bella," Edward said softly, and though he'd used her first name, Bella was too far gone into her memories to realize it.
"The other two servants were in the foyer, and I heard the baby crying. I didn't even realize I'd grabbed up a little statue, and I ran upstairs. He was... he was..." She couldn't say the words but Edward got the idea when she shuddered. "He was ... distracted... the man. And I hit him. I hit him three times right on his head."
She sat then, in the chair by his bedside and rested her trembling arms on his chest, still staring off into nothing. Heartbroken, Edward raised a hand to wipe away the tears that were falling slowly down her cheeks. She didn't break down and sob, she merely cried for a moment, until she came back to herself.
"Anyhow, when I finally managed to drag him off Maria..." She looked up, her eyes wide and filled with a terrible sadness. "I tried. I really did. But there was so much blood, and I couldn't save her," she said in a whisper.
"I'm sure you did all you could," Edward assured.
Bella breathed in deep. "The man... he wasn't dead. He was hauled off, and before they hanged him, he screamed... Well... He said she deserved it - that they all deserved it - simply because they were Southerns." She looked at him. "He was a Union soldier, Sergeant Cullen. A deserter, I'm sure, but he wore your colors nonetheless."
Edward didn't know what to say.
That there were monsters on each side was obvious - men who used a noble cause as an excuse for their loathsome ways. He'd seen it among his fellow soldiers as he'd seen it among the Confederates. It went without saying and it was entirely beside the point.
After four years of seemingly endless fighting, Edward couldn't see the Confederate gray uniform without his hackles raising and his teeth automatically setting on edge. It was an ingrained reaction because for four years, seeing those colors meant bloodshed and death was not far behind. While it was true that his family had suffered, as many families had suffered, at Confederate hands, he could not imagine losing one of his loved ones that way. And on top of that, Jasper had obviously been horrendously wounded at some point, judging from his scars.
His face and body disfigured, his wife raped and murdered, and his son rendered speechless by the trauma...
Edward suddenly understood why any man wearing Union blue was still Jasper's enemy.
A/N: Thank you to my girls, jfka06, barburella and jadedandboring. I'd never get through all this without you.
Our boy will be out of bed soon. What are we thinking about Jasper now?