A/N: Historical FYI. Water kegs are smallish. They're maybe about the size of big cooking pots (not the cauldron type pots, the bigger pots you put on your stove).

The nights Carlisle was gone, Bella found it difficult to sleep. There was a time when she, with foolish, little girl naivete, thought no harm could come to them-her family and her extended family-because Carlisle was the best doctor in the world. But then he hadn't been able to save her mother. She didn't blame him, of course, but her innocence was gone.

Two months on the trail, Bella knew full well the fragility of human life.

The fire had long burned to embers outside when she heard the crunch of earth beneath booted feet. She held her breath when the footsteps drew nearer and let it out in relief when the canvas flap to their tent came open. She heard a rustle as Esme sat up and Carlisle crawled in.

"Finally. I was beginning to think you would never return," Esme said. "Oh, my love. You're exhausted."

"It was a long night."

"You only set out to check on the babe you delivered yesterday. Has something happened?"

"Baby Katie is fine."

When Carlisle didn't elaborate, Esme spoke again, her voice stern. "Carlisle. I know that face. There's something you don't wish to tell me."

He sighed. "Robert Banner died just now."

Bella bit her lip to keep from gasping. Carlisle and Esme were whispering in an effort not to wake her, and she had no desire to let on she was awake. At times, her foster parents tended to forget she was a woman grown now and still treated her as a child.

"That's terrible," Esme said. "I'm sure you did what you could."

"Out here, there's not much I could do. It's cholera, Mae."

Luckily for Bella, Esme's gasp covered her own. Bella bit down on her knuckle, trying to stifle the innate fear that word brought. Cholera was the disease that had near about claimed her father's life. After she read about it in his letters, Bella had scoured Carlisle's libraries for information about the disease. There was some talk as to treatment, but generally speaking, the disease killed quickly.

"It's no wonder, what with us having to set up camp alongside the filth of those who came before. I'm telling the council to spread the word. Clean drinking water helps. We shouldn't be cleaning, cooking, or drinking with water that hasn't been boiled. Best we try to keep the children, the elderly, and the pregnant women away from those infected."

"And what about you?"

"I'll be fine."

"Carlisle-"

"You know I have to do what I can."

"I know." There was the soft sound of their tender kiss. "Promise me you'll take care of yourself. The days are exhausting for all of us, but you spend your nights tiring yourself out further. You need your rest and your strength."

"Yes, love."

~0~

Bella near about jumped out of her skin when Edward broke her reverie by sitting down beside her. She hadn't heard him approach, staring as she was out over the water.

"Hello, stranger." He grinned wide in a way that made her want to duck and blush.

"Stranger?" She scoffed and set about her task, drawing more water into one of the five kegs they carried. James had advised purchasing the kegs because they might hit dry patches or areas where the water was alkaline. Clean water to feed the oxen and themselves could, as with everything, be the difference between life and death.

Of course, since the outbreak of cholera, all the water had to be boiled and cooled before being replaced in the kegs. Carlisle had read a theory in his medica journals about boiled water perhaps lessening the spread of disease. None of it made a bit of sense to Bella, but she always took him at his word. It didn't hurt, certainly, but it was a time consuming process given they only had two large pots between them.

"Well, it seems so. It's been going on four days now, you haven't asked me a single question. You haven't sought me out at nooning time, nor come by to bring me dinner." He looked up from under his eyelashes, his hands busy with his pack and a fishing pole. "It's got me wondering if I maybe made you angry again."

Bella frowned. She sat back on a rock and began to untie her boots. "I thought you'd be relieved. You're always telling me I should stay away from you. I did, and now look at you."

He looked down and began to unwind his line. "I don't want you to stay away from me. I enjoy your company, Bella. I've told you before. Just-"

"I know. You're concerned about what people will think."

"I'm concerned for you. You know this, don't you?"

"I understand." Bella had gotten her boots off by then. She hesitated a moment, but peeled off her underskirts.

"Bella. What are you doing?"

The note of panic in his voice made Bella want to laugh. She bit her lip to keep her giggle at bay. "The water at the banks here is muddy. I'm going to wade a ways to fill the kegs."

"Ah. That makes sense. You should let me, though. You'll be wet the rest of the day."

Bella scoffed. "And likely better off for it. The days are so hot of late."

"Your skirts will be heavy."

"It's Sunday. We're not walking today." In late May, they had begun to rest a full day every Sunday. It kept animals and humans alike from getting over-exhausted. "Besides, I have four more kegs to fill this afternoon. If you wish, you can help me with the others. Many hands make light work.

"If it pleases you."

Bella hiked up her skirt to wade into the water. Her face burned, and she wondered if she was being brazen. She reasoned to herself that there was a difference between untoward behavior and necessity. It was hardly her fault Edward followed her out here. It wasn't as though she was trying to show off a little leg.

When she had waded out to where the water was clearer, Bella chanced a glance back at Edward. She thought she saw him staring, but he looked down quickly, resuming his task of unwinding the line in his hand. If anything, her cheeks grew hotter. She cleared her throat and stumbled for a topic of discussion to break the thick atmosphere between them.

"What river is this?"

"What?"

"The river." She gestured around her. "I swear I didn't know there were so many rivers in this country."

He chuckled. "This is the North Platte River. This river is a tributary of the Platte River, but it's over seven hundred miles long when the Platte River is over three hundred. Don't you find that strange? The smaller river is the main river."

"A tributary isn't defined because it's the bigger river," Bella said as she began to wade back. She kept her eyes trained on the water, careful of where she stepped. "It's an offshoot that flows into the main body of water, a river or a lake. The main stem river flows to an ocean or sea. The stem may be a few feet long, but as long as it flows to the sea, it will be the main stem."

When she was met by silence, Bella looked up. She found Edward staring at her, his face blank. She remembered how often Rosalie and Alice had tried to teach her the fine art of catching a husband. "You're smart as a whip, Bella, but a man doesn't like to think you're smarter than him."

Not that she was looking to catch a husband at all, let alone Edward. "I'm sorry. I know I speak out of turn, and I-"

"Bella." His laugh was soft as his smile. "It's not speaking out of turn to be an educated woman." He got to his feet. "You catch me by surprise, is all."

He reached out then to take the keg from her. It was a heavy thing, but he shifted it to one arm and held his other out to steady her as she climbed onto the shore. She leaned on him for perhaps a beat longer than she should have, struck by his eyes and the way way the sunlight glinted off the green.

"Well." He set the keg down. "Are you in a rush to get back to camp?"

"No. I don't suppose I am. Just boiling and walking back here to do."

He hummed. The way his eyes drifted over her face, lingering on her lips, made Bella catch her breath in anticipation. Of what, she couldn't say, but the moment seemed pregnant with chance.

Edward huffed out a breath and stepped back from her. He cleared his throat and nodded down at his feet. "You want to learn how to fish?"

She raised an eyebrow, debating with herself. She supposed she could feign ignorance for the sake of his pride. That would be what Alice and Rosalie would do. She crouched down and took the pole in her hands. She strung the untangled line along the rod and fastened the hook. "Do you prefer worms or is there some plant that makes better bait?"

Edward stared at her, blinked once, and bent over laughing, his hands on his knees. Bella grinned, pleased at the sound. "I am my father's only child. He enjoyed fishing."

"I recall." He waved a hand out. "It seems as though it's your day to be the teacher. By all means. You might be the more experienced angler, after all."

He helped her find a worm and sat beside her after she'd casted her line. They sat in companionable silence for a time. It was peaceful. She cast sideways glances at Edward, taking in his profile. He had quite a beard going, the same bronze shade as his hair.

Was it strange to want to run her fingers through the coarse curls?

He turned his head, catching her stare, but rather than look away, Bella was frozen. His eyes darted again down to her lips.

Bella's attention was drawn as her line tugged. They both looked to the water, but no sooner did Bella's slow thoughts catch up-there was a fish on her line-than the pole jerked again. She had to grasp the thing with both hands to keep it from flying off.

"Gracious," she muttered as she tried to reel the fish in to no avail. She could see the commotion it made in the water, and she pulled back, digging the heels of her bare feet into the dirt.

Before she knew what was happening, Edward had wrapped an arm around her, holding her hand steady on the pole while he took the line in his other hand. "Whoa now. Easy. You gotta bring him in nice and slow-like, lest he break your line. Easy does it."

She might have reminded him she knew exactly what to do with a stubborn fish, but the rumble of his voice so near her ear had her muddled. When she pulled back, she found herself nestled against his chest. Together they brought the fish up onto shore.

"Woo, girl. Look at that." When he turned his head, his grizzly chin nuzzled her cheek. The scratch of his whiskers sent chills down her spine. "That there is what you call a whopper. You can feed the whole train with this here fish."

Without thinking, Bella turned her head to look at him, fully intending to tell him he maybe exaggerated just a little, only to find her lips against his. Startled, she stilled, her mind blank. His eyes were wide, his breath hot against her skin. For one, two, three seconds that stretched into eons, neither of them moved.

Then Edward groaned. His eyes closed, and he brought one hand up to the back of her head. He kissed her, a proper kiss, and nothing Bella had read about, nothing she had heard from Rosalie and Alice, could have prepared her for it. It was so much more than the soft way his lips moved on hers. It was a thrill that went through her blood, barely keeping time with the quickened beat of her heart. It was a warm thing, a heat that spread from her chest to the top of her head and the soles of her feet.

It lasted a handful of seconds before Edward pulled back. Her eyelids fluttered open feeling heavy to her as though with sleep. Indeed that was the state of her mind: the dreamy haze as when one woke up to a mid-morning sun shining warm on their bed. There was a dark quality to his irises then. Not a badness, but something that spoke of want. He looked uncertain, as though he might apologize, but then he tilted his head and kissed her again.

This time she pressed back. It was more natural than she would have thought. It was as though her lips were meant to kiss his, to fit with his, to move with his. Many more seconds passed before they parted, both breathless.

It might have seemed ridiculous. She could scarcely remember how she ended up in his arms except that she was still holding on to the rod with both hands. The fish flopped pathetically at their feet.

He licked his lips and took a deep breath. "Bella, I-"

Anything he might have said was cut off by the sounds of little voices yelling. Bella and Edward skittered apart from each other, each climbing to their feet as they turned to the forest behind them. For a moment it was all but impossible to tell what the yells were about, but then Bella heard it.

Her name. Cried out by two very frightened little boys. "Peter? Henry?" she called.

They came into view scant seconds later. Something was wrong. She could read it in their faces and hear it in their voices. "What's happened?"

"Esme said you gotta bring the water quick," Peter said.

"It's Carlisle," Henry said, his small face the picture of concern. "He took sick something awful."

Bella's stomach twisted. "Oh no." She grabbed up the keg and started to run as fast as she could.

"Here." Edward had caught up to her easily enough. He had her shoes in his hand. "Hold tight to the keg," he said only a second before he swept her up in his arms, keg and all.

Under normal circumstances, Bella would have protested being carried about like a babe. As it was, she hadn't the time to put her boots back on, and she trusted Edward to get her back to camp quicker than she could hobble across the forest floor. She held on tight to the keg, glad that camp was only a short distance away.

Edward set her down when they got to the grassy clearing. He took the keg from her and ran with her to their wagon.

Bella gasped when she came around the corner to find her foster family and a scattering of others gathered around a huddled form. It was Carlisle, of course, and he was in a right state. Though he was a statuesque man, he looked small, curled in on his side as he was in the middle of all the family's bedding. His face was bone pale and his arms curled around his middle as he panted in obvious, terrible pain. Bella imagined his lip was split because he'd bitten down on it to keep from crying out. It seemed like the thing Carlisle would do.

Before Bella could go to him, Emmett caught her round the waist. He dragged her back even as she protested.

"Come on now, little sister." Though Emmett was usually boisterous and cheerful, his eyes were heavy with worry now, and his voice gentle. "You can't get close."

Edward had brought the water over. Esme looked up and handed him a dipper. "No time to disinfect it, and no point," Bella heard her say. "He throws up water faster than I can get it in him."

Emmett had dragged Bella out of earshot, where Rosalie and Alice were sequestered. Bella stopped struggling. "Is it cholera?" she asked though she already knew.

He jerked his head in a nod. "Hit him out of nowhere. One minute he was sitting up talking, next he was, well…" He gestured helplessly in his father's direction. "Jasper's gone to fetch Doc Snow." He shook his head. "I gotta help Mom. Stay here, Bella. The less people around to catch it, the better."

Bella let Alice and Rosalie tug her back and together they sat on the ground, their arms around each other, rocking quietly.

For some reason, though he had no more medical know-how than she did, it made Bella feel better that Edward stayed by Carlisle's side.

~0~

It had long been night before Edward came away from the Cullen's camp. There was so little he could do, but he had done what he could. He fetched and carried water. He dug through Carlisle's medicines, trying to find the laudanum. He comforted Esme best he could when she told him Carlisle had used the last of his store the day before to ease a dying woman's pain.

He had never felt so helpless in his life.

"Edward?"

Bella's soft, shaky voice had his heart twisting. He turned to look at her, and in the light of the fire he could see the worry on her face. She looked even younger than her years when she made that face.

Could it have only been that morning that he'd found himself kissing her by the river?

She swallowed. "Is he…?"

"No," he said quickly. "I think the worst of it is over."

"You think he'll live?"

"Hasn't Emmett or Jasper talked with you."

"I know what they said. I want to hear you say it."

Again, Edward was struck by the trust she put in him. He reached out to touch her shoulder-an innocent, comforting touch-and wished he could pull her into his arms. He hated to see her face so drawn. "Cholera kills very quickly. He's made it through the day. He will make it through the night, and he will recover." He squeezed her shoulder. "He is a strong man with much to live for, Bella. He'll survive. You'll see. A few days from now, it will be as though he'd never been ill."

"My father is strong, but the disease made him sickly. Weak."

Edward grimaced. He let his hand slip around to her back. "Your father had a string of bad luck. Wasn't the cholera hit him first. He'd been through diphtheria already when he caught cholera. It was too much for his system. But still, he was strong enough to survive that, and Carlisle will pull through as well."

"It's terrible what that disease did to him." Bella wrapped her arms around her shoulders.

"I know, little sweetheart. I'm sorry you had to see it."

She eyed him. "You really think he'll be fine."

"Wouldn't say it if I didn't believe it." How badly he wanted to cup her cheek. There was an ache in him he couldn't let himself acknowledge. He didn't know how to feel about their kiss. He didn't know what he was supposed to do. Out here on the trail, it wasn't as though he could steer clear of her.

It scared him how much he found the idea abhorrent anyhow.

Edward sighed and rubbed her back once more before he let his hand drop to his side. "Sleep, Bella. There's no telling what tomorrow might bring."

"Can't sleep. Can you?"

Reflecting, Edward found he was disturbed to his core with worry about the Cullen patriarch. He sighed and shook his head.

"May I stay up a while with you?" Bella asked, nodding toward the fire at the center of the circled wagons.

He knew he should say no. He knew it, but she was frightened. It was the least he could do. "If you wish. Yes."

They stayed the night by the fire, talking of herbs of the region, until Bella fell asleep with her head on his shoulder.

A/N: There.

Much love to songster and barburella. And much love to all of you! How are we doing, everyone?