A/N: Sigh. Again, I'm gonna have to apologize for the lack of review replies. The holiday season is crazy. Please know that your reviews make my day. I love em. Even the snarky ones. hehehhe. Happy Holidays to you and yours!

"Just how are you planning to get the money?"

Edward lay in his bed, automatically on alert due to the tone of the discussion happening in the other room. They weren't precisely arguing, but it was clear that Jasper was worried. Bella sounded exasperated. But then, from Edward's observations, people worrying about her frequently exasperated Bella.

"I'll figure something out. What's the difference to you, Jasper?" she asked shortly.

"I don't want to see you out of a home. You're my responsibility and -"

"I'm no one's responsibility," Bella snapped. "I don't care what my father or your father would have expected of you. You've a home of your own to attend to, and I doubt you can pay the fees anymore than I can. Peter should be your main priority, not me. Do you know how you'll keep a roof over his head?"

There was an uncomfortable silence before Edward heard Bella sigh. "I thought not. Don't you worry about me, Jasper Whitlock. I'll figure something."

Edward thumped his head back against his pillow, troubled at this latest revelation. He should have guessed that they were both in dire straights. Much could probably be said about how Jasper had changed during the war, but Edward couldn't make himself believe that he would let a lady work herself so hard if there were any other choice. That and the boy he remembered had no love of field work. That he toiled in his crops himself was telling.

It wasn't at all uncommon. There were an endless line of wolves in sheep's clothing just waiting to take advantage of the bereft South. During the war, with many of the men of the house off fighting, many families had lost their homes, farms, and plantations - some to purposeful destruction, Union soldiers attempting to cut off Southern supplies - some when they lost the free slave labor that kept their cost down, and others to the endless line of con artists waiting in the wings. It hadn't escaped Edward's notice that many more southern families had been destroyed than northern.

Edward realized quickly that should Bella lose her home, there would be no where left for her to go. Jasper was her only friend, and he could not support her. She had no other family. The thought made him frown, an uncomfortable feeling settling at the core of his heart.

He decided right then that he would sooner die than see that happen.

"Will you at least consider ridding yourself of your guest now?" Jasper asked, sounding more frustrated than angry. "You've done your duty. He is well on the road to recovery. You've fed him your last bit of poultry and hearty vegetables while you yourself survive on grain. Let him go to the hospital, Bella. You don't need to shoulder this burden. He is well enough to save his own leg, should it come to that."

"Jasper Whitlock, I won't condemn him to that place, and that's the end of it." She sighed, a long, aggravated sound. "When we came here, one thing my father admired about the South was its sense of hospitality. It is something he strove to adopt. What good is surviving if we lose who we are in the process?"

~0~

After Jasper left, Edward lingered in bed both ruminating about what he'd overheard and doing his best to avoid running into the blond man. While his old friend's temperament had improved considerably, things were still more than a little uncomfortably tense. Now, of course, he understood there was reason for Jasper's ire that stretched even further than his hate of anyone in Union blue. While he put his sweat and blood into the land, barely scraping by and keeping himself and his son fed, Edward lay nearly useless, taking in valuable resources without pulling his weight.

The thought irked Edward to no end. It seemed important to Bella that he stay as he convalesced, or he would have arranged to leave post haste. He certainly didn't wish to insult her when she'd been so kind. Still, he was getting stronger by the day. Surely there was something he could do to contribute, however small.

Bracing himself against the wall, Edward began the long walk to the kitchen. He concentrated on keeping his feet steady, holding back the urge to curse as each step was agonizing. Bella glanced over her shoulder once and then dutifully looked back to her task of cleaning vegetables in the basin. He knew from experience that what she wanted most was to help him, but she knew better than to try. Instead, she kept her back studiously turned, allowing him some semblance of pride. For that, Edward was endlessly grateful.

Finally, he slid into his now customary seat at the table, panting lightly with exertion. Though he saw the tight set to her lips, Bella said nothing as she placed a talk glass of water in front of him.

"Thank you," he murmured after he'd downed nearly the whole glass. She smiled in response, returning to her vegetables.

Peter, who'd been playing quietly on the floor by Bella's feet, pushed himself up, ambling over to Edward, his eyes, as always, cautious. He climbed onto the chair next to Edward, sitting on his knees, and offered him one of the toy soldiers in his hand.

It was a wooden soldier, obviously painstakingly whittled and painted. "Did your Papa make you this?" he asked the little boy. One of his fellow soldiers used to spend the long nights between battles whittling an entire army for his son back home. Edward imagined Jasper bent close to the lamplight, carving these pieces and thinking of his wife and child.

Peter smiled and nodded, again shaking one of the toys at him with an expectant look on his face. Glancing about automatically - he was sure Jasper wouldn't want Yankee hands touching these items he'd so lovingly carved for his child - Edward took the soldier.

"You look so serious for someone playing with a child's toy," Bella observed a few minutes later, placing a cutting board on the table alongside a bushel of vegetables. She sat across from him as she began to separate stalks of celery.

They were sickly looking, Edward noted. It was suddenly obvious that she would keep the best of her crops to sell, leaving the small, limp stalks to eat. He frowned, wondering why he hadn't noticed this sooner.

Shaking that thought away for the time being, he addressed her question. "It's strange to play at war," he admitted, his voice sad as he marched his soldier beside Peter's. "When I was a boy, I played like this and imagined the excitement...the glory." He breathed in slowly, his heart heavy, remembering his fellow soldier who'd carved similar soldiers...who'd died in the dirt at Shiloh, not living long enough to see the wooden toys delivered to his son. Setting the soldier down on the table, he ruffled Peter's hair affectionately as the boy looked up at him curiously. "There is no glory, only pain and death," he said flatly.

A dark feeling overwhelmed him then, and for many long moments, Edward wallowed, caught in the depths of a sudden despair. Every once in a while it hit him: the things he'd seen and done. Practically all he'd known for four years was war; the effects of it were all around him, from the wound to his side to Bella and Jasper's financial troubles.

In those moments, he didn't understand how life could ever be normal again.

Bella's hand over his put walls around that emotion, tapering it down to a more manageable level. He breathed slowly, willing his erratically pounding heart to slow. Flipping his hand over, he threaded their fingers together, needing an anchor to keep him tethered to the firm, stable earth.

When he felt Peter wrap his whole hand around two of his fingers, Edward gave a shaky laugh. He opened his eyes, smiling at the little boy who was staring at him with concern. "I'm okay now, buddy. Sorry if I scared you. Thank you."

Peter gifted him with another smile before hopping down to the floor. Edward watched as he toddled off to a basket in the corner where some of his other toys were.

"I am sorry about that," Edward apologized sincerely, reluctantly letting go of Bella's hand. "I'm not sure what came over me."

"You've been through much, Edward. You don't have to downplay that for my sake." She returned to breaking celery stalks.

"Let me help you with that," Edward said hastily, wanting to feel less like a burden.

"You don't have to -"

"Please. I'm strong enough to lift a knife. Let me cut the vegetables for you, if that's what your aim is."

She pursed her lips, looking for a moment like she was about to argue. "If it makes you feel better, I suppose I could use the help. I do have more work to attend to out in the crops," she allowed, pushing the cutting board toward him. "We're having soup tonight, and it needs to simmer for most of the day."

For minutes there was only the sound of knives cutting through the crisp flesh of the vegetables and striking the wood beneath. It was more relaxing than he would have thought. It was different from the meals he'd prepared in the army camps - mostly hardtack, salt pork, and dried fruits. The company was a thousand times better. Even in her silence, Edward found Bella's presence soothing.

As they chopped, Edward tried to think of a way to steer the conversation toward what he'd overheard between her and Jasper without giving away that he was eavesdropping. As he could think of no way to bring up her financial situation in polite conversation, he tried a different tactic.

"Bella, I hope you will allow me to purchase some supplies for your table. Perhaps some fresh sausage for breakfast? Or anything else you may need?"

Bella looked up at him from under her eyelashes with cautious eyes. "It will be a while before Jasper can accompany me to the marketplace in Houston," she said carefully. "You may just be well enough to leave us by then." It seemed as though she tried to smile but failed somehow as she said this. "Don't you worry none about me or mine. We have what we need."

"There must be some way I can repay you for your kindness, for the burden I've brought on you," he insisted.

"Kindness is not a burden; it should be a requirement of a decent human being," Bella countered.

Edward scowled at her for a moment before he broke into laughter. "You are stubborn, aren't you?"

She grinned, looking back down at her task. "As a mule, or so they tell me. Personally, I think mules are quite a bit more docile than I, but there you have it."

"Perhaps," Edward said quietly. "But I find your company far preferable."

She ducked her head, her cheeks flushing pink. Her smile seemed pleased and Edward e wondered why that made him so happy. "Incidentally... I find your company quite enjoyable as well."

~0~

Edward woke with a start, his skin crawling and his every sense aware, in a heightened state of alertness that skirted the edge of panic. He jumped out of bed before he remembered he was injured, his only thought that he needed to get to his gun. He sunk to his knees, gasping in pain.

As he caught his breath, Edward glanced around frantically. He felt threatened and desperate to know if Bella and Peter were okay.

It took him a moment to figure out what had spooked him. Specifically, he realized what had happened when thunder rumbled outside. Gradually, it occurred to him that the constant noise he was hearing was rain.

Edward laughed wryly at himself, struggling to stand. Though he knew now that there was no danger, he felt the need to see Bella and the baby, to be sure they were safe. It was easier to mitigate the passion with so much adrenaline running through his veins. He found himself moving slightly faster than was possible recently.

As soon as he got to the door he felt the invisible vice grip that had settled over his chest eased considerably. He saw Bella leaning over, her hands on her knees as she peered under the table. Surely enough, Peter was cowering there, sobbing with his hands over his ears. Edward's heart automatically went out to the boy.

"Hey, sugar. What are you doing under there?" Bella asked, keeping her voice light.

Of course, Peter didn't comment, but his cries quieted some.

Edward leaned against the doorway in the semi-darkness of the early, stormy morning, hoping she wouldn't spot him. Her smile was gentle, beautiful on her face, and as she sunk down onto her knees, for once she looked much younger than her 21 years.

Thunder boomed, making Edward flinch and Peter whimper. Edward closed his eyes briefly, breathing deep to mitigate the panic that encroached on his psyche. Though his rational mind knew it was just thunder, he couldn't help but think back to the deep, resonating crack of cannon fire nearby and the shouts of men as they fought and fell.

"It's okay, precious."

Bella's voice was enough to keep him in the present. He took another long breath, letting her words soothe him.

"It's just thunder. It means the rains have come. Hear that?" Carefully, she reached under the table, pulling the baby to her. His chubby arms around her neck, he clung to her, obviously still frightened. "Look, Peter." She brought him to the open doorway though he made distressed noises, burying his face against her skin. "The thunder brings the rain and makes the land green." Smiling, she tickled his stomach lightly. "And if the rain keeps up like this, your Pa will have to come in from the fields early."

At that, Peter lifted his head, staring out toward the fields anxiously, searching. Edward muffled his chuckle against the back of his hand.

Bella breathed in deep, like she was savoring the scent of the wet earth. It struck Edward then how very rare a creature she was. Like so many others, she'd lost much. Unlike many others, she did not bemoan her situation, but took each day as it came. That she could take a moment to revel in the rain cuddling the child in her arms close seemed poignant somehow.

It gave him hope that life could be normal again.

Suddenly eager to be at her side, Edward reached for the cane Bella had brought him just a few days before. She'd found it amongst her father's things. When he frowned in displeasure at the idea of walking around with the assistance of the cane, Bella merely smiled, telling him she thought it looked distinguished. That along with the fact that it did help him walk without assistance made the thing a little more palatable.

Of course, there was no such thing as stealth when he walked across wooden floors. Bella turned to face him almost as soon as he began his trek across the living room. Her smile, when she saw him, made his stomach twist in a strangely pleasant way, and he smiled back automatically.

"Edward, good morning," she greeted. "Won't you join me on the porch? I think it would be nice to enjoy the rain for a spell."

His lips twisted, an errant thought crossing his mind. Were this a much different world, if Edward wanted to see Bella socially they probably would have had long afternoons sitting with iced tea on the porch where her father or her old nanny could check out the window to rest assured they were behaving themselves.

"That sounds lovely," he said softly.

When he was settled on the porch swing, Bella set Peter down beside him. The little boy instantly clutched his arm, obviously not quite at ease with the whole thunder situation. Bella darted inside only long enough to retrieve a blanket which she draped over their legs, warding off the chill.

"It's funny. For some reason, you struck me as the kind of girl who would enjoy the sunshine to the rain," Edward observed, finding he was enjoying watching her more than watching the rain fall.

She turned slightly, her lips pursed as she thought her answer through. "Well, the sunshine of Texas often brings with it the humidity, and that I can do without. But I suppose, typically speaking, I prefer the warmth. It's just that I know the early rains are good for the crops." She breathed in, closing her eyes briefly. "I expect we are due a small bit of luck."

Edward fell silent, looking out at the rain but not truly seeing it. His mind leaped from subject to subject following only a barely logical trail. He thought of Bella's financial situation, wondering what fees were hanging over her head that made Jasper so worried a week or so before. He thought of all the responsibilities of running a household and frowned, realizing abruptly that the life he'd known the last four years was over. All too soon, he would have to return to his own life, whatever that encompassed.

"You seem so serious suddenly. Is there something troubling you?" Bella asked quietly, breaking in to his pondering.

"No trouble per se. I was considering the date," Edward mused aloud. "June twentieth approaches quite quickly."

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, and Edward had to chuckle at her adorably perplexed expression. She smiled back a little uncertainly. "What happens on June twentieth?"

Edward looked back out over the land, his lips tugging downward. "I enter my twenty-third year," he murmured, and then sighed. "How odd, to say that out loud. I feel... so much more weary than 23 years implies, but the calendar is quite insistent. Yet, in other ways, I feel entirely unprepared. Should not a man of my years know more about his own life?"

"What do you mean?"

Wondering why he was burdening this woman with his heaviest thoughts, Edward shook his head and spoke anyway. "In my boyhood, I dreamed of being a soldier and worked to that goal. Now I find myself discharged from my position, and all too happy of that, but it does leave the question of 'what next'? Soldiering is what I know - it's allI know. What work am I suited for now?"

His frown deepened and his heart began to ache. "And what of the other aspects of a life? My father was a good man and a good husband. I cannot tell you how much I regret that I took his presence for granted – that he provided for me and my siblings and listened to us well when other men have little patience for their children." He bowed his head, feeling slightly overwhelmed. "I fear, without his guidance, I will falter as a husband and father, when that time comes for me."

Quickly, he shook his head, angry at himself. "But look at me. I am remiss in my manners as a guest. Please excuse my rudeness. I didn't mean to lay my burdens, such as they are, on your shoulders."

Bella sighed, reaching out to touch his shoulder lightly. "I hope by now you realize that we are friends. Your worries are understandable and not a burden at all."

"Well, regardless, it's time I stop taking of your generosity to such a large extent," he said firmly. "If you refuse my offer of supplies and the like, there must be something I can do for you."

Bella was already shaking her head. "Perhaps you hit your head harder than I originally suspected. I think I've told you enough times that if you overwork yourself, it will take you longer to recover, and what good is that to anyone?"

"Surely there must be some chore that is not so strenuous," he countered. "My mother always said that owning a home was a full time job in and of itself. Any time my father took from work, she had a list of tasks for him." He grinned impishly. "He called it her 'Honey-do' list." His smile fell slightly at the memory, and he missed both his parents with a fierceness that nearly knocked the breath from him right then.

"Honey do this, and honey do that. Yes, Jasper's parents had much the same system," she mused with a snort. Bella pursed her lips, watching him with gentling features. "If you are amenable and able, there are some moderate repairs I could use some assistance with," she allowed grudgingly.

~0~

Edward smiled feeling ridiculously proud at his handiwork as he checked the loose shutters in Bella's bedroom. Though he'd been glad when Bella agreed to let him help, the prospect was daunting given that he knew nothing of household repair work. This relatively minor accomplishment did wonders to assuage his wounded masculine pride. It also gave him a degree of comfort to help Bella.

It still felt so wrong, so very unjust that she'd been left to fend for herself.

A loud whoop startled Edward, nearly sending him toppling off the chair he sat in. Jasper's voice filtered in from the living room. "It's raining cats and dogs out there." There was a pause and a delighted childish squeal as Jasper must have picked up Peter. "Hear that, Petey? I think the good Lord spilled his water glass. That means only good things for us."

"Oh, Jasper. You're soaked to the bone," Bella protested.

Edward got to the door in time to see Jasper pull her under his other arm, squeezing her tight as she protested. He was sopping wet and seemed intent on leaving both Bella and Peter in much the same state. "I'm not made of sugar, sugar. It's just a little water," he teased her, not letting go though she pushed away from him as she laughed.

It was strange, the emotion that came over Edward then. He had to grip the wood of the door frame tight to keep himself still. What he really wanted was to fly across the room, ripping Bella away from Jasper's arms.

Edward was disturbed by the flavor of his indignant thoughts. He wanted to yell that Jasper had no right to manhandle Bella in that fashion, but then, it was not his place to say so. It was obvious that Bella was not uncomfortable with his attention. He simply... didn't like it.

Chuckling, Jasper released Bella from his grip and set Peter on the floor, ruffling his hair affectionately. "Well, seeing how I won't be accomplishing much in the fields today, maybe now is a good time to look into some of the chores around here. Don't you have a shutter that needs mending?"

"As it happens, Edward is taking care of that as we speak," Bella said mildly, stooping to examine the state of Peter's wet clothing.

Jasper's eyes narrowed. "Edward?"

Not for the first time, Edward found himself wondering what Jasper's intentions were toward Bella.

If Jasper was the true man of the house, decorum would prohibit Edward from offering his assistance in household repairs lest he step on the other man's toes. The last time Edward had asked Jasper about his interest in Bella, they'd both been boys, but much had changed since then. She looked after his child, after all, and he'd stated on more than one occasion that he felt a great responsibility toward her. Could it be he felt more than that?

And if it was, why did that thought make Edward's blood boil in his veins, his hands automatically forming fists?

Jasper blew out a long breath of air and shrugged, visibly putting on a less irritated expression as Bella straightened up again. "Well, I suppose he got tired of being about as useful as a screen door on a canoe."

"Jasper," Bella admonished.

Edward retreated back into Bella's room, deciding it wouldn't hurt to triple check the shutters. It was suddenly very important that Jasper found no cause to berate his work.

A/N: Thank you to jadedandboring, jfka06, and Barburella for putting up with my whining. I love youz guyz.