I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

Author's Note: Yes, I will finish this story. Here is the next chapter. Thank you for your astonishing patience!

VII

Edward's POV

I was exquisitely aware of Mrs. Black at my side. Behind us, the boys chattered away in the wagon. The horses were cooperating, placidly moving along, taking us closer and closer to Denver. From that city, we would take a train east. All in all, we expected our journey to take a week, if the Lord gave us favorable weather.

With Isabella at my side and the boys in the back, I felt as if they were my family. I wanted to make them my family, if Mrs. Black would consent to giving me her hand in marriage. She needed me. She needed a man to help ease her burden, a father for her boys. They were strong willed and needed a male influence.

I wanted to be that influence.

I wanted to have the right to release the dark cloud of hair that was so ruthlessly tamed during the day. I wanted to unbutton every single tantalizing button on those drab gowns. I wanted to see her dress in pretty colors that would make the most of her natural beauty. I wanted to have the right to caress the soft, white skin that sometimes peeked above her bodice and to know that there was nothing to stop me from pulling the laces from her chemise and pressing soft, reverent kisses to her fragrant flesh. I wanted to cover her body with mine, to press inside of her and become a part of her. I wanted to see her body grow and change with my child. I wanted us to raise the boys and the others I hoped would come along.

I wanted everything. Forever.

Setting a steady but easy pace, I directed the wagon toward Denver. I bade Isabella to take a nap in the back and the boys sat beside me, chattering like magpies and asking a million questions that they never gave me time to answer. It struck me that I loved the boys almost as much as I loved their mother. They were bright, inquisitive, good-hearted, mischievous, and strong-willed. I wanted very much to help mold them into the men I knew they could become. I wanted to teach them to cherish the woman they married, to bring their children up with generous doses of discipline and love. I wanted to watch them grown and mature into young men who would be a help to their mother.

Today was as good a time as any to begin that process, I decided. I would make myself a part of their lives – and their mother's. I would accomplish my goal by sheer tenacity and determination, all the while showing her the tenderness she so deserved.

So the boys talked and I sometimes got a word in edgewise. Isabella napped and gained a sense of peace and restoration, knowing that her boys were in capable and loving hands. And it was good.

Isabella's POV

I pretended to sleep, listening to Edward speak with the children. Actually, he did more listening that speaking, but that only endeared him to me all the more. It was rare that a man would take the time to actually listen to children. Children, for the most part, were taught to be seen and not heard. That lesson had been drilled into me often enough as a girl. I had had my knuckles rapped and my cheeks pinched painfully more times than I could count. "A lady is modest in all things, including the voicing of her opinions and thoughts," Mother had instructed me. To be fair, however, my grandmother had been a formidable woman herself and I fancied that my mother's childhood had been even more restricted than mine. I had had my father at least, to soften the edge of Mother's demands and expectations.

If he had lived, Jacob would have been a good father. He would have found the right balance between firm discipline and loving guidance. It was one of the reasons I had almost loved him for a time. Perhaps not love, but affection. When I saw him with our sons, I could forget the difficulties between us and focus on the love he had for our boys.

As I listened to the childish excitement of Alex's and Aaron's voices, I understood that they truly liked Mr. Masen, as much more than a tutor. They did not realize it yet, in their innocence, but they hungered for a father, a man to guide and love them. I knew I could delude myself into thinking that I was starting to view Mr. Masen as more than a tutor by telling myself that I wanted to give my boys a father.

But the truth of the matter was, even if I had not had the boys, I would have wanted Mr. Edward Masen.

The idea of passion, of...lust, was so new to me that I was at a loss. I had not been raised with the idea that women – especially ladies – ever gave such matters any thought. We did our duty in the marriage bed for the sole purpose of procreation. My mother had never hinted in any way that I should find the process enjoyable. On the morning of my wedding, she had recited some bare facts to me, facts which had seemed too ridiculous to be real. So when Jacob had lifted my nightgown and spread my legs, I had not even thought to struggle. A few moments later and I felt a deep stabbing pain and I closed my eyes until it was all over. Jacob had seemed very satisfied. And I had decided that I would do my duty, but nothing more.

Now, however, at the sound of the deep, musical rumble of Edward's voice, I was experiencing an ache deep inside of me. It was need twisting in my belly, a desire for something I sensed I might find in his arms. What it might be exactly, I had no idea. I knew only that I wanted it. Desperately.

Edward's POV

We broke for camp that night and I took care of the horses while she tended to the boys. Then Isabella prepared a simple but tasty meal over the campfire. I had gathered wood and gotten some water from a nearby stream. The water was so cold it made my teeth ache, but it soothed the thirst that had resulted from a day on a dusty trail.

The boys were exhausted and soon after eating, their eyes began drooping and soon they were leaning against a tree, lightly snoring. Isabella took one look at them and giggled. "I suppose I should have prepared their pallets," she mused.

"I'll do it," I said, jumping to the task. I needed to move, to distract myself. The sight of Isabella in the fire light, her hair starting to tumble from its confinement, the soft pink of her lips as she licked them clean from her dinner – all of it made my body tight and tense with need.

We soon had the boys settled on a pallet, their backs touching, their small faces looking even younger in sleep. I stood up and smiled at them. "They're quite adorable like this," I observed.

"What? Asleep and silent...for once?" she teased.

I looked at her and grinned. "Something like that." I studied her delicate features and noticed a smudge of food on her cheek. One of the boys had probably done the honors, I guessed. Without thinking, I reached up and wiped it away. She looked startled for a moment. "There was something on..." I shoved my hands in my pockets. "I beg your pardon."

"No," she hastened to reassure me. "It is fine. I was just..." She looked down at her feet, still shod in her sensible little boots.

"Mrs. Black-" I began, but stopped abruptly when she looked up at me, biting her lip, obviously trying not to laugh.

"I think..." She laughed and shook her head. "I think it might be permissible for you to call me Isabella," she said. Looking around, she gave a little shrug. "I don't think the wild creatures of the forest care much about etiquette."

"All right," I agreed happily. I wanted nothing more than to kiss her, to pull her into my arms and claim her lips with mine. Then I wanted to undress her slowly and lay her down on the blankets by the fire and take her. Claim her.

An awkward silence descended and I shuffled my feet. I opened my mouth to speak but she forestalled me. "I wanted to thank you, Mr. Masen-"

"Edward," I interjected. "Please, it's only fair."

She nodded. "All right then...Edward," she said softly. "I wanted to thank you for accompanying me on this journey. It..." She sighed. "It means a lot to me and I wanted you to know that I am grateful."

"Thank you for allowing me to do so," I said. She gave me a tentative smile and then turned to go to her pallet. I decided that I must begin on my bold course of action sooner rather than later. Fortune favored the bold, I reminded myself. "And Isabella?"

She stopped and turned to look at me, her expression expectant. "Yes?"

"I would..." I took a deep breath. "I would do anything – go anywhere – to be at your side. And I thought you should know that."

Her plump lips fell open in surprise and I knew in that moment that if I kissed her, she would not object. But I wanted her to have time to get used to the idea of my courtship. I wanted her to long for me as much as I did for her. Instead, I lifted her slender hand to my mouth and pressed my lips reverently against her knuckles for just a moment, allowing my breath to ghost over her flesh. I felt the delicate shiver that ran through her and gloried in it. "Good night, Isabella," I said. "And I hope that you have sweet dreams." A spirit of mischief made me add, "I would not object if you dreamt of me."

She mumbled a good night and sort of stumbled to her makeshift bed. I settled in my own blankets, opposite hers across the fire. I stared at her for a long moment, taking note of the way her eyes studied me. Then she gave me a shy smile and closed her eyes.

I did the same, content.