A.N.: So sorry about the lack of review replies. I'm trying to write and get ready for Barburella to come visit me. WEEEEEE!

~1860~

They spent the better part of an hour just chatting until Edward grinned.

Bella tilted her head, staring at him curiously. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He chuckled, looking down as played with the fabric of the jacket he'd long ago slipped out of. "I hope you don't mind my being so forward, I've just never enjoyed the company of a lady quite so much," he said quietly, looking up from under his eyelashes so she could see his sincerity.

Her cheeks turned a remarkably pretty, scarlet color, but she smiled, seeming pleased. "Perhaps it's true what they say, that Northerners are so much different than the folks down here."

Now it was his turn to seem perplexed. "What do you mean?"

"Well," she said wistfully. "I suppose there is something to the gossip about me. Being raised without a mother has left its mark." She screwed up her mouth on one side, looking out to the river before she continued. "I would rather converse with boys than with girls, but it is no longer proper for me to do so... and truth be told, it seems most of the boys now prefer the company of the girls who will simper and flirt. I am still too much a child to be an adult and too far grown to play with the little ones." She looked up at him, and though she tried to hide it with a small smile, he could see a deep hurt hidden in her eyes. "I cannot remember the last time anyone enjoyed my company."

His heart gave a strange lurch, some combination of fury and sadness. Before he knew what he was doing, he'd stepped over to her, closer than he knew he should. He was caught up in the need to defend her to anyone who would think ill of her. Equally pressing was his desire to take away that hint of pain in her eyes. He caught her face between his hands, looking on her intently. "They are fools, Isabella Swan, and you are better off without their company."

She didn't answer. It took him a moment to realize why her eyes were wide and her breath caught in her throat. She bit her lip, her eyelashes fluttering.

Abruptly, Edward realized he was touching a girl in an intimate manner for the first time in his life. It occurred to him that he was acting much in the same way he'd seen his classmates and other boys back home act when they found themselves smitten with a girl: just a little bit daffy. He found himself regretting laughing at them; they'd seemed so foolish.

It took the space of that heartbeat for Edward to feel hopelessly out of his depth. His mouth went dry, his throat constricted, and his heartbeat sped. Despite the humidity of the day, Edward was entirely too aware of the heat her body exuded - so much different. Rather than wishing to escape it, he was drawn forward, barely resisting the urge to pull her tight against him.

He was utterly frantic with the need to kiss her.

Edward swallowed hard, still frozen with his hands on her cheeks.

How was he going to do this?

Wait, was he going to do this?

Somehow, he tore his gaze away from her lips to meet her eyes, an apology about to slip from his mouth when he froze again, completely startled by what he saw.

Her eyes were as loud as any shout and saying she wanted him to do exactly as he pleased.

Edward was utterly helpless to do anything but oblige.

Her lips, as he brushed his against them, were smooth and soft. His eyes closed, too overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through him to keep open. It was amazing how that little bit of pink, moist skin was the most incredible tactile experience he'd ever had. Her upper lip fit perfectly in the little space between both of his, and she kissed him back with the slightest pressure. Surely there was no greater bliss than this.

When her hands cupped his elbows as she shifted closer to him, concrete thought returned to him. With a wild gasp, he stepped away from her, horribly guilty. "M-miss Swan, I'm so sorry. I've no idea what came over me."

She looked up at him, her mouth shaping a little 'o' of surprise. He felt lower than low, watching hurt flit across her features before she turned away, wrapping her arms around her shoulders defensively.

Again, the need to soothe her misery won out over his ingrained manners. He stepped up to her, one hand on her arm to catch her attention. "Miss Swan, I... It's not that I regret. Just think of the situation we find ourselves in. The hour grows later, and if we are seen walking out of these woods together, your reputation will suffer for it." He frowned, running his hand through his hair. "While I return to West Point unscathed."

Bella looked up again, her eyes searching his uncertainly. She nodded slowly. "You're right, Mr. Cullen," she said finally, her voice light as a breath. She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. "Will you escort me at least to treeline?"

With a gentle smile, happy beyond measure that she was permitting him to touch her again, Edward offered his arm. "It would be both my duty and my pleasure."

They walked in silence, both deep in thought. Though he was dying to ask her what she was thinking about, Edward was preoccupied with his own musings.

What was the code of conduct in this situation?

Edward was suddenly filled with notions that had never occurred to him before. Was it plausible to court someone from such a distance? He knew it was. Several of his classmates had sweethearts back home and frequently received letters that smelled of women's perfume. Would Bella like that? Would she want him to pursue her? He suddenly understood the appeal - why those classmates with their girl's handkerchiefs as a keepsake in their pockets had not the time for their lessons but spent hours upon hours crafting perfect letters.

Would her father allow it?

Grimacing, Edward realized just how unlikely that was.

He was, after all, a Northerner, and Bella a Southern damsel. While Edward preferred to avoid the conversation, any fool could see the country was on the brink of splitting right in two, and when it did, they would be caught on different sides of a great chasm.

With the future so uncertain, was it fair for him to lay claim to her heart when he could promise her nothing?

By the end of their walk, Edward had no answers. The situation seemed impossible.

He stopped her, before she slipped through the trees, bringing both of her hands to his lips. Closing his eyes, he kissed her knuckles firmly, knowing he was letting go of a dream before it could even begin.

~1865~

After that party, Edward hadn't seen Bella for the rest of his visit. She'd remained in his thoughts. He'd wrestled for months with the desire to write to her. Then the war had come, and it didn't take long for an afternoon spent with a feisty young girl to seem like a faraway dream that happened, like the rest of his fantasies of peace and comfort, only in the recesses of his mind.

Save for one Christmas furlough and the nine day leave he'd been granted to bury his father, Edward served continuously from the first day of the war until he'd come across a young woman being harassed. All that time spent living in tents in the unforgiving heat, the mud, and the unbearable cold, watching friends die gruesome deaths, shooting down his fellow human beings... he was no longer the naively innocent boy tied in knots by a relatively chaste kiss.

How interesting that this same girl, no longer a child of 16 but a strong woman of 21, would be the same to reintroduce him to the better side of humanity. She was kind and patient. She'd risked so much to make sure he was well taken care of, even though he'd essentially fought to rob her and her kin of their way of life.

Bella's inconvenience was just one of the many reasons his lingering weakness bothered him to no end. Though he was only awake for an hour here and there, Edward had pieced together that her duties included working the crops - a fact that broke his heart - along with her household chores. Between that and taking care of him and the child, she must have been running herself ragged.

Since she had the stalwartness to do all that, he resolved that he would find the strength to move from the bed.

Edward wryly decided that his first goal would be to use the privy instead of the chamberpot on his own.

Forcing himself to exercise patience, Edward moved slowly. He spun so his legs were dangling off the bed, pausing to rest for he was already weary. After a few moments, he gripped the edge of his headboard, gritting his teeth at the pain that shot through his side as he pulled himself into a sitting position.

For a long moment, Edward was sure he was going to retch. His stomach churned sickeningly and his head spun. Gasping, he bent forward, just trying to breathe through the waves of agony coursing through his body. Besides his obvious injury, his every muscle protested being moved after such dormancy.

"Oh! Sergeant Cullen! What do you think you're doing?" Bella flew to his side, her hands on his shoulders.

He knew what he must have looked like. He was hunched over, leaning heavily with one hand braced against the bedpost. His body was shaking hard, and he knew his face must have been bone white, for he'd felt the blood drain from it with his exertions. Still, he held out his hand, bidding her to stop.

Swallowing hard and breathing shallowly, the pain seemed to be loosening its grip in fractions of an inch. "Will you...please...call me... Edward?" he asked between pants.

Her gentle hands brushed a strand of sweaty hair from his forehead. "Fine. Edward, what is it you think you're doing?"

"Sitting. Just sitting." He closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe deeper, slower.

"Well, you should be abed -"

"I am sick of this bed!" he snapped, the irritation giving him a momentary burst of strength. He breathed deep again, instantly feeling contrite. "Please forgive me," he said softer, his shoulders sagging even further. "I should not be ill tempered with you."

The bed dipped as she sat beside him, her comforting hands soft on his back. "Who could blame you? Were I in your position, I'd likely be more like to whine than you have so far."

His smile was small. "Well, I've been asleep most of the time," he pointed out.

She chuckled and they sat quietly for a few moments. Finally, Edward felt in enough control of the pain that he opened his eyes, letting them adjust to the room. His gaze fell on the items by his bedside - medicine, water... and a curious item that made his smile broader. Taking his shaking hand from the bedpost, he plucked up the feather that lay on the table, twirling it between his thumb and forefinger.

"Peter is an obedient child, but not without his own opinions," Bella said softly, chuckling. "He likes you."

"Does he stay with you?" Edward asked, endlessly curious about exactly what was going on with Bella and Jasper.

Bella busied herself, unwinding his bandages so she could check his wound. "For the few days it took for the news to reach Jasper and for him to get here, Peter stayed with me. There was no one else. Then afterward..."

She sighed. "Jasper was in no shape to care for a small child. It's only been more recently, perhaps a month or more, that Jasper came to take him home for good. Still, he leaves Peter here most mornings as it is easier for me to look after him as I tend the gardens." She looked up, a little sad. "The work in the fields is much harder and no place for such a young child." She rolled her eyes slightly. "And, of course, Jasper has spent the last five nights on a couch in my living room."

Edward looked down at his hands, but he was smiling. "I'm not sure I would be any different in his place," he admitted softly. "Perhaps you should reconsider. I can convalesce in a hospital."

Her look then was sharp as she shook her head, reaching for the washcloth on the basin. "I was not exaggerating for the sake of it," she said as she began to carefully clean around his wound. "I know how they treat Union soldiers there. You are no inconvenience to me, so you'd best get used to the idea of staying here until you can walk out under your own power. The sooner the better."

Feisty as ever.At least some things never change.

Rather than dwell or argue, Edward chose to ask another question. "Aside from Jasper protecting you from my viciousness, do you live here alone?" She was silent and Edward cursed his bluntness. "I'm sorry, that was very rude." He hissed, gritting his teeth against the stab of agony at her efforts.

"It's fine," she said lightly. "I was just thinking I should tell you the whole sordid tale if you are truly interested."

"I am," he assured. "If you want to tell me."

She frowned. "I can't see a reason not to." She put the cloth down, sighing as picked up the salve. "My father and I lived alone in a plantation house about a mile from here. He had this house built shortly before the war, hoping to make it part of my dowry." She pursed her lips. "He was optimistic, I suppose. In any event, the war came and he, like most men of age, enlisted as a member of the 7th Texas Mounted Rifles," She paused, biting her lip hard for a moment. "And was summarily killed at the Battle of Valverde."

Edward sucked in a sharp breath.

Her father had been dead for three years.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured, softly touching his hand to her knee for a brief moment.

"Thank you," she said, smiling back sincerely. Taking a deep breath, she continued. "Well, I was just 17, so Jasper's mother took me in. I called her Miss Lucy even though she was married, and she never tried to correct me." Bella reached by him, picking up a fresh bandage. "She was kind that way.

"So we lived, getting by as we could for the majority of the war. We were struggling. Well, they were struggling," she amended. "My father's investments were managed through a friend of his, and our farm and fields flourished for a time. But the Whitlocks...

"A little over a year ago, Jasper's father died. He was much older, and I'm sure the constant stress wasn't good for his heart." She frowned and Edward's heart again ached for this woman. She'd been through much. He wondered if it felt like losing her father all over again. "By that time, my father's friend had his own affairs to take care of. I took back control of the farm and the men - my father never owned slaves, not ever," she said fervently.

"I offered to sell the Whitlocks my father's property and moved here. The large house was too big for just me. I split the property as my father would have had I married, keeping only a few acres and the property around this house, while the Whitlocks took over the cotton fields that Jasper works now." She finished wrapping his wound and leaned back. "So, yes, to answer your question. I live here alone, just as Jasper is alone with Peter in the main house. There's a servant's quarters for the men who work the field between the two houses - Jasper and I share the upkeep on that."

Edward bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from prying further. He had so many questions. He did, however, reach over, wrapping his fingers around her wrists and flipping over her hands. As he suspected, they were callous. They could not have been doing so well if they were both toiling in the fields personally.

Bella closed her hands into fists, but she did not snatch them away. "We get by how we can," she said softly, getting up. "You should lay back down. I'll bring you something to eat."

Shaking his head stubbornly, Edward braced one hand on the nightstand. "Perhaps I'll join you in the kitchen for lunch today," he said, beginning to push himself up.

"Oh, for heaven's sakes!" Bella exclaimed, hurrying back to his side and slipping his arm around her shoulder.

"You don't have to -"

"Don't start," she warned. "You should be in bed. If you don't let me help you, you'll fall right on your rear end."

"Come away from there, Bella," Jasper's voice interrupted them. His voice was softer than it had been the last few days, though it was still thick with irritation. "If he's going to insist on being an idiot, I'll help him," he grunted grudgingly.

"I can -"

He groaned. "For once in your life, would it kill you not to argue? I said I would help him. He's a lot heavier than he looks, if you'll remember, and he's like to drag you down with him if he falls." He snickered, rolling his eyes. "I know he's delicate, but I promise I'll be gentle."

Edward narrowed his eyes, bristling and sitting up straighter. "I can handle myself just fine without your assistance," he said thickly.

"Oh, don't be an ass," Jasper snapped. He pulled up his shirt, revealing a long, thick, jagged scar on his side. "It's not like I don't know what it feels like to be run through with a bayonet. I'll help you. I don't have to like it. You don't have to like it. Let's just get this done."

As much as Edward wanted to argue, he knew Jasper was right. If he was being honest with himself, he would acknowledge that he truly shouldn't be attempting to be upright. He could use the help, and Bella was likely too slight to take the brunt of his weight. She was looking at him with concern, so Edward made an effort to smile at her, letting her know he was fine. He fought the urge to grimace was she unwound her arm from around his body and stepped away from the bed, watching fretfully as Jasper took her place.

"Lean on me, and we'll stand on three," Jasper said, his voice rough but his actions patient. "One, two, three." With Jasper's help, Edward stood on fawn's legs, sucking in a sharp breath to keep from shouting a string of profanities.

"We'll be fine, Bella. Why don't you go on?" Jasper said, his arm still steady around Edward.

Still looking reluctant, Bella nodded and walked back out the door.

"You're one silly son of a whore, you know that?" Jasper muttered lowly when she was gone.

"I'll thank you... not to.. call my parentage... into question," Edward seethed, panting with effort.

Jasper fell silent as Edward took an experimental step. They'd shuffled a few more feet when the blond man leaned in close, dropping his tone so there was no chance of Bella overhearing. "You listen to me, Edward Cullen, and you listen good. I know something happened between you and Bella that summer." He scoffed. "She used to write to me at West Point, and then, after your visit, she never failed to ask about you. I thought it was cute - a little girl's fancy. But now that she's a woman on her own out here, I don't want you getting any ideas. She's a good woman. Better than you'll ever deserve. You so much as think at her in an untoward way..."

"I don't know who you think you're talking to," Edward hissed, wishing like hell he could push the other man away. "I have no intentions but to get well enough to leave you to your life."

Jasper's answering laugh was bitterly sarcastic. "Right. Because you Yankees are so good at that." He scoffed.

"Not every Yankee is out to destroy you, Jasper," Edward said, sadness overriding his irritation.

"You'd do well to hold your tongue, sir," the other man hissed back. "As far as I'm concerned, you're all vile butchers."

"That animals can masquerade as men goes for both sides," Edward snapped, anger again giving him a burst of strength. "I know what happened to your family, Jasper. No one deserves that, but monsters exist on both sides." He took a moment to breath, noting the other man's shoulders had gone rigid, his jaw tense with barely contained fury. "My father was working at a hospital in Richmond. A hospital. He was tending the wounded - Union and Confederate alike. A madman wearing your colors came in with a pistol. My father was murdered along with three nurses - all of them mothers."

Jasper said nothing for a long moment, though Edward was close enough he heard when the blond man swallowed hard. He breathed in and out through his nose, rage draining slowly from his features. "I'm sorry," he said finally, the word coming out terse but nonetheless sincere.

"Yes," Edward said with a sigh, again leaning heavily on Jasper for support. "I'm sorry, too."

A/N: Thank you to jfka06, barburella and jadedandboring, and to all of you for your support. Much love.