Another week went by, and Edward began to walk without the assistance of the cane. He took it upon himself, when he felt better, to increase his self imposed duties. When Bella fell ill with a summer flu, he took over most of her usual duties.

That was why, when a lone, black carriage came up the long drive, Edward spotted it first.

He stepped out onto the dirt road, and the driver of the carriage pulled to a stop.

The door opened and a man peered at Edward curiously from the back. He was dressed very finely and wore a top hat. Edward had almost gotten used to seeing people dressed for the fields. Certainly it had been many years since he'd been in anything but a uniform or plain linen.

"Can I help you, Sir?" Edward asked calmly. There was something about the other man's gaze that was cold, calculating. It set him on edge.

The man smiled at him, the expression not unlike that of a snake. "Good morning to you, Sir," he greeted, tilting his hat. "I've business with the er, lady of the house." He cocked an eyebrow, studying Edward curiously. "Unless she's found herself a husband since last we spoke?"

Edward couldn't help but smirk. "I'm close enough for you," he said, an edge creeping into his voice.

The man chuckled. "No need to get unpleasant, Sir," he said easily. "I must say, I feel some relief that the young lady has found a way to cope with her debts." He eyed Edward speculatively, his eyes raking over his shoddy clothing. "At least, I would hope she is making wise choices that will benefit her station." He chuckled. "Women are not known for their logical prowess."

Edward bristled, his fingers flexing at his side. "Perhaps you might introduce yourself, Sir?"

"Ah, of course. How rude of me. My name is Aro Scarpinato."

Edward took his hand, shaking it firmly. "Edward Cullen," he said tightly. "You mentioned something about debts."

Mr. Scarpinato nodded. "I'm afraid Miss Swan is quite behind on the taxes on her farm, Mr. Cullen. I've come to deliver the final collection notice in person." He handed Edward a pamphlet. "If you don't come up with the money, I'm afraid she will lose the farm. She has two weeks."

Edward didn't look at the paper until he was sure Aro's carriage was turned and headed away from Bella's farm. When he saw the total amount due, his heart sank.

By his reckoning, even if she was able to sell the vast majority of her crops, she would not be able to pay the fee.

Disturbed, Edward went back about his tasks, his thoughts heavy.

~0~

A week passed, and though he had left the bill where Bella must have come across it, she had yet to mention it.

Though, Bella being Bella, that was not surprising.

Early one morning, as he was pulling on his boots to start the day, there was a knock at the door. At his call, Bella and Peter entered. She carried what looked like a little cake. Peter clambered up on his bed, crawling toward him eagerly. The little boy climbed into his lap, steadying himself with one arm clinging to Edward's neck. He insistently knocked on Edward's hand until he flipped it, and then Peter deposited three smooth pebbles in his palm.

"Thank you, kind sir," Edward said, wrapping one arm around the baby to secure him. He looked up at Bella. "What's all this?"

"Happy Birthday," Bella said, grinning at him as she sat on the edge of the bed.

Though his first thought was to scold her, knowing that for even such a small, simple cake, she'd spent money she didn't have, her hopeful, eager expression quickly disabused him of that urge. "This is a wonderful surprise. Thank you both."

He ruffled Peter's hair, making the little boy giggle, and looked at Bella, his expression tender and thankful. "Will you share this bounty with me?"

"It's yours," Bella protested.

"And such treasures are best when shared," Edward said firmly. "It is my birthday, after all. You aren't supposed to argue with me."

She rolled her eyes, but smiled. "Well, if you're going to put it that way..."

He grinned impishly at her, and carefully set his new pebbles beside the feather Peter had given him before. He stood, balancing the little boy on his hip carefully.

"Do you want me to take him?" Bella offered, reaching for Peter.

"I have him," Edward assured.

"Your side? Don't you hurt?" she asked, looking concerned.

"No," he said softly. "The pain is less every day, and my strength is returning quickly."

He thought he glimpsed a flash of pain before she turned, picking up the little cake and standing quickly so that her back was to him. "That's good," she said simply, moving toward the door.

Adjusting Peter on his hip, Edward followed her into the kitchen. He sat at the table with the little boy on his lap. Bella retrieved a couple more spoons and they set about devouring the cake.

"Poor Jasper," Edward clucked. "To miss out on such a treat."

He saw Bella's lips twitch downward, and she huffed lightly. "I have a feeling the treat would be wasted on him," she said quietly, shaking her head. "I'm sure he would lecture me that it's wasteful, times being what they are." Smiling, she put another forkful of cake in her mouth, obviously savoring the favor. "But I think, without these sweet moments, life wouldn't be worth living."

As he watched, transfixed, her tongue darted out, catching a crumb of chocolate that had clung to her lower lip. "Sweet," he echoed, swallowing thickly to bite back the urge to cup her cheek and taste the sweetness of her lips.

Clearing his throat, he looked away, laughing lightly as he wiped a smudge of chocolate off Peter's grinning face. He looked up, catching Bella's eyes to convey the sincerity of his words. "Thank you. This is already the best birthday I've had in many years."

~0~

Another few days passed, and Edward came to realize that the atmosphere at the house was growing heavier. He thought, at first, it might be his imagination, but he was sure he wasn't the only one dancing around the issue of the quickly approaching future.

One morning, before he went out to find work around the farm, Edward sat at the kitchen table, helping Bella cut vegetables for the soup that would simmer most of the day. The silence between them felt thick, oppressive, but what they both knew he had to say couldn't be put off for much longer.

"I am almost recouped to my normal strength," he began slowly, and as he watched, her knife faltered in its rhythm. "It's time for me to get back home. Arrangements will have to be made, but I may be gone before the week is out."

For a long moment, she said nothing and did not look up at him, but concentrated hard on the vegetables she was chopping. She swallowed hard and nodded, her eyes cast downward. "You must be eager to get back to your family, of course," she murmured, almost as if to herself. It seemed to take some struggle, but she smiled as she finally looked up at him. "We'll miss you here," she said quietly. "I'll miss you," she spoke even quieter, again looking down.

It seemed to Edward that he was teetering on a great precipice. He debated inwardly, knowing that the path he was about to embark on could rock his life to the core, and he wasn't entirely prepared.

Time rarely waited until he was ready, he reflected, and spoke before he could change his mind.

"Bella... I know about the tax."

He heard her quick breath, but she did not react otherwise. "Of course you knew," she said evenly. "I didn't think it was Petey who left the notice for me to find." She looked up, smirking at him briefly, but he could see her eyes were cautious. "Thank you for dealing with that man, by the by. I must admit, he makes me uncomfortable."

Carefully stepping around her attempt to deflect him, he pressed on.

"I saw the sum. It is an incredible amount. Too much," he said. "How can you hope to pay it?"

"That really isn't your concern," she answered, her voice soft but firm.

"You are my friend. I'm concerned for you," he returned.

Bella frowned, looking up at him with a flicker of irritation. "I'll think of something."

"You have precious little time," he reminded. "Please, won't you consider letting me repay you for your kindness?"

"You are very generous, Mr. Cullen. But I cannot accept your charity," Bella said, the tone of her voice suggesting the topic was not open for discussion.

Edward ran a hand over his mouth considering his next words for only a moment before they came out. "It would not be charity if you were my wife."

Bella's hand stilled, her knife poised above the vegetables. "I beg your pardon?"

"Marry me," he said plainly, somehow keeping himself sitting up straight though he felt like slouching like a little boy. "This farm will become my asset, and I will see to it that it succeeds. The hands will be well paid. Any decisions would be left to your discretion."

Setting down her knife, Bella fitfully dried her hands on her apron, staring at some space above his head. Her face was flushed, but that could have been the heat in the kitchen. "Are you bribing me?" she asked softly.

Edward's eyes darted to hers, seeing that she looked wary. Wary... but not entirely opposed. "I am presenting a mutually beneficial solution."

Her eyes shot skyward, and Edward realized how that might sound. Some men considered that wives were only good for warming their beds and keeping their brats fed. He cursed himself inwardly. Only he could propose to a woman and make her feel like a common whore. "Bella," he said, trying to get her to look at him. She would not, and he sighed. "What I mean to say is, I have a large home that needs looking after - someone to boss around the servants." Edward grinned, thinking that Bella was well suited to that task. "And...I care for you."

Tentative and uncertain, her eyes finally met his.

"I worry for you - what will happen to you here. Jasper cannot hope to provide for you and his son..." He stopped, realizing he was probably babbling. He looked at her steadily. "And I have enjoyed our time together and do not wish it to end."

Edward tried not to notice the way her chest rose and fell rapidly, the skin above her collar as pinked as her cheeks. When she spoke again, her voice shook. "Don't you hear what they say about me? I would not be a good wife. Disobedient, remember? You've said it yourself."

Jasper's voice wafted back to him from the depths of his memory. Bella? My father'd be fit to be tied. I'd be surprised if her daddy was able to find a husband for her.

Frowning slightly, Edward stood. Her eyes were on him, a little wide like a cat about to start. He walked slowly to stand beside her, extending a hand to touch her cheek. She was trembling beneath his fingers, but she stood her ground. "Those men who want obedient wives are foolish. You challenge me. Perhaps you would not be a good wife for them, but for me..." He drew the pads of his fingers down her cheek, running a thumb over her full lips.

Knowing he was being highly inappropriate - she was not his wife, nor had she consented to become so - Edward took a step away. He picked up her hand instead and brought it to his lips, kissing her soft skin. "You don't have to answer now. There is still time before I leave."

Because he wasn't able to help himself, he brushed a tendril of hair out of her eyes. Then he forced himself to walk out the door, pretending his heart wasn't threatening to thunder out of his chest.

~0~

Late in the afternoon, Edward took a break from his duties, seeking out the solace of a spot he'd found days before down by the river. He soaked his kerchief in the cool water, sitting with his back against a sturdy oak and relaxing as best as he was able in the sweltering heat. Closing his eyes, he drowsed.

He was alone for only minutes before quick footfalls alerted him that someone was approaching. When he opened his eyes, Bella stood with her hands on her hips, staring out over the water. She looked perturbed, her mouth set in a hard line, and Edward stayed still, waiting for her to tell him off.

She opened her mouth, huffed, and closed it again before she finally spoke. "There is not much time to decide before you leave. There is much to do. I would need to hire several hands and choose a foreman. That takes time, Edward. I realize you know nothing of running a place like this, but it's not something I can just up and walk away from."

"Bella," Edward called, halting the steady flow of words from her mouth.

She looked at him, her eyes betraying her nerves. She bit her lip, wringing her hands fitfully.

"Why do you need to choose a foreman?" he asked.

She breathed in through her nose, still looking at him steadily though her expression became shy. "A foreman would know enough to make most day to day decisions that I will not be able to make... if I am to live so far away in the North."

It was only with the great effort that Edward kept the exultant grin off his face. He felt giddy as a school boy - nervous, but suddenly very happy. "Come here," he requested softly, extending a hand toward her.

Haltingly, Bella took a few steps toward him and took his hand, letting him steady her as she knelt by his side. He studied her expression carefully, running his fingers over her cheek as he had that morning, allowing himself to hope that it would soon not be so inappropriate to touch her. "Tell me this is what you want, Bella. Not because you feel you have no choice. We can figure something out if this is not what you want."

She chuffed lightly. "It is, as you said, a mutually beneficial arrangement." She looked up at him, searching. "You like that I speak my mind, don't you? I mean - you knew that about me?"

He nodded. "I enjoy that about you."

She looked down at her hands. "Women have so few choices. You said you worried for me, and I understand why that is. I would venture to guess that most women in my position wouldn't hesitate to consent to your agreement. It is so much better than what many have resorted to since their husbands did not come home from the war."

"I want you to have a choice," Edward said firmly.

Her smile was small and genuine. "What I am trying to say is... if I'd had a choice, it would have been you. When I was a child... before..." She sighed. "Well, before everything, I daydreamed of that one kiss we shared," she admitted, her face flushed pink. She dropped her gaze bashfully. "You don't know how often I imagined you would come back for me. And that part of me wishes that I could bring more than debt to a marriage."

He took her hand, squeezing tightly, raising his her fingers to his lips again. "Wealth is something I have in spades, my dear." He considered her words. "You said that part of you wants this... wants me. And the other part of you?"

For a split second, he saw the furtive look in her eyes before she looked down, picking at threads on her dress with the hand that was not held in his. "The other part of me has seen enough to know that even the most charming man is different behind closed doors."

Edward sat up straighter, furrowing his eyebrows. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying... there is much I don't know about you, Edward. There is much you don't know about me. I want to believe you are truly as gentle and kind as you seem... and that is the way you would treat your wife. But I cannot know for certain what kind of husband you will be," she said to her lap. "Nor can I know what my life will be like in your world."

Edward let that hang between them for long moments, torn between outrage and disgust. Had he ever shown her anything besides gentleness? Certainly, he'd skirted the line of appropriateness, but he'd been a goodly gentleman, if not a perfect one.

Before he spoke, Edward tried to see things as a woman might - as Bella might.

There was truth to what she was saying, about how husbands treated their wives and about how few choices women had. It had not escaped his notice that women were spoken of as property, first of their father's and then their husband's. He himself had pointed out that if they married, the farm would become his automatically, and though he knew that he would let her run it as she saw fit, she had no guarantee of that.

He suspected that in addition to her worries about her family's property, she also knew what being married meant, what was expected of her.

Grimacing, Edward remembered Rosalie and what Royce thought he was entitled to even before they were married.

Once they were married there was not even the threat of social stigma in how a man treated his wife, as long as he stuck to the rule of thumb. Bella's body would be his to do with as he liked. He wasn't naive. He knew well what some men did with their wives. Women might be bidden to be silent, but bruises spoke volumes.

Once, during the war, he'd had occasion to spend the Christmas season at a fellow soldier's home in Washington, D.C.. He'd woken during the night, concerned that he heard a woman crying. He'd stepped out of his room to find his friend pressing his wife against the wall, his hands hiking up her dress while she begged and pleaded for him to stop, that she did not want him to do what he was about to. "You are my wife," the man had snarled in her ear, "and I will have you when and where I please."

It had infuriated him, but there was nothing he could do. Given the birthrate and simple common sense, he had to assume that his former friend was not alone. Personally, Edward could never have made love to a woman who was sobbing and begging for him to stop, but Bella couldn't know that.

He tugged lightly on her hand. "Please come here," he murmured, and he was relieved when she let him guide her so she was sitting on his lap. Putting one arm around her to support her back, Edward tilted her chin up with his free hand so she could see the sincerity in his eyes. "Bella, I cannot promise you that you will never see my fits of temper. What I can promise you is that I would rather die than raise a hand to you. And I would kill anyone who threatened you."

He took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "My parents have brought me up to consider women as treasures and my wife as a partner, not a possession. My father raised neither hand nor voice to my mother in all the years they were together."

He ran the back of his knuckles tenderly over her cheek. "Here and now, I swear to you, I will not press you to do anything against your wishes. Ever." He ran his fingers over her chin, tapping lightly. "Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

Slowly, she nodded, meeting his eyes. Her lips parted, as if she wanted to say something, but she seemed, for once, rather tongue tied.

Cupping her cheek, he looked at her intently, his voice soft and remarkably calm though his emotions were anything but. "This is what you want. Truly?" he verified.

She nodded again, her arms tightening around his shoulders. "Yes," she said, the word just a whisper. "This is what you want? Truly?"

He let the grin he'd been holding back spread slowly until he was sure his face might crack. "Yes," he murmured. "Yes, this is what I want." He stroked her cheek again, his tone becoming even softer. "You are what I want."

It may have been true that he had no idea what kind of life he could offer her. Perhaps he knew nothing else, but he knew he wanted her by his side. He didn't want to wait until his affairs were in order. He didn't want to have to be without her again.

This time, he would act without stopping to consider the common sense of the situation.

Tilting his head down so his face was very near hers, he felt a giddy laugh build at the center of his chest and bubble over. "You'll marry me, Miss Swan?"

Her lips tugged up, and she tittered, too. "Yes," she answered.

Edward could not remember a time when he had been as happy as he was at that moment. He felt excited as a little boy and gladly would have hopped to his feet, whooping and hollering in joy.

Her slight weight on his lap, her shy but smiling face so close to his, had the effect of tempering his reactions. Closing the small distance between them, he pressed the first of many kisses ever so gently to her upturned lips. He was pleased when she readily melted against him, her hand cupping his neck as her lips moved with his, tentative at first, then more boldly. Their kiss was unhurried - the slow, steady promise to be gentle with each other.

Sweet first kisses that prefaced and promised the rest of their lives.

He hoped she could understand in his kiss more than his words could ever say that he cherished her. He would always cherish her.

There, under the peacefulness of a sturdy oak tree on an outrageously hot Texas day, Edward finally began to hope that life could again be good.

A/N: Ah!

So, thank you to barburella and special thanks to TwilightMundi. Much love to all of you. Thanks for bearing with me and again, I'd like to apologize about the review reply situation. Sigh. I am bad. And I love you all.

What will Jasper have to say about all this?