A/N: Man. Life keeps getting away from me. Sorry about the delay.

The three days after Edward and Bella's impromptu marriage proved to be quite literally rough. They had hit a vicious patch of trail known as the Rocky Ridge. The treacherous rocks were not easy on livestock or wagons.

The first day, Bella had only barely stirred in her new husband's arms when they heard Emmett and Jasper calling through the trees for Edward. A scout sent ahead the night previous had come back with news the trail was blocked by a minor rockslide about five miles up. The able bodied men had a full day ahead of them getting to the obstruction and then clearing it.

So it was the first full day of their marriage, and Edward and Bella hardly saw each other. Bella helped the women put together a quick breakfast and dry foods for the men to take with them. Bella was flustered, worrying that she was doing something wrong as she wrapped jerky and biscuits for Edward. She was only copying what she had seen the other women do for their husbands, and though it was a simple enough task, she couldn't help but wonder if she was missing something.

Edward looked surprised and pleased when she brought him his satchel filled with what he would need for the day. Bella's cheeks still burned when he kissed her softly in front of the others, but she didn't pull away. In fact, she found it difficult to let him go. Esme had warned her there would be no respite for them, that it would be back to business right away, but that didn't mean Bella had to like it.

The rest of the day Bella spent fretting that Edward would exert himself too much again. Esme drew her close for a hug. "Carlisle will take care of him, Bella. Don't you worry."

They busied themselves sorting the gifts Edward and Bella had received. The night before they had been thrown haphazardly into the Cullens' wagon. Rosalie, who fell in with Emmett and Carlisle believing Edward had taken advantage of Bella, had the occasional unkind word for Edward.

Of the now four couples making their way to the west coast, Edward had nothing but what the other travelers had given them. Bella didn't understand the point of her sarcasm. What did she expect Edward to do? He had nothing to trade. Did Rosalie expect Edward to make her goods and furniture by hand...overnight?

"Pay her no mind, Bella," Alice said. "Women near to their time are always moody."

When they were done sorting and reorganizing the wagons, they set about planning the evening meal. Since the men would not have had a decent lunch, they decided dinner should be more hearty. To that end, the two skinny chickens Bella had been gifted with by two separate families were summarily beheaded, and the women set about the tedious task of plucking feathers.

When that was done and the birds on a spit over the fire, Bella slipped off by herself to gather what she could find in the way of root vegetables and other edible plants.

The men trudged back to the camp after nightfall. They were all tired and dirty. Though she had seen Esme, Alice, and Rosalie do for their husbands a hundred times over what she was now doing for hers, Bella still felt out of sorts, as though she would be caught and censured, when she brought Edward his dinner. She tried her damndest to remind herself she was his wife, and touching him was no longer inappropriate. Still, she felt as though her foster family must be staring when she tended to Edward's superficial wounds as he ate.

When she clucked over his scraped knuckles he flipped his hand and wound their fingers together. The way he stared at her, his eyes shining with unabashed adoration, sent warmth to her cheeks and set her heart to a quickened beat. She ducked her head, shy, but he brought his other hand to cup her cheek. He didn't say a word but kissed her softly, just once, before he turned his attention back to his meal.

That night they lay around the fire near to the others and yet were their own unit. Bella was surprised how quickly she grew used to lying in his arms, her head on her chest where she could hear his heartbeat. She loved the way his fingers felt as they traced along her hairline or gently untangled snarls. He whispered to her, telling her stories about a buffalo stampede he witnessed in one of his other crossings.

The second day brought with it a moral quandary. In the mid afternoon, they came across a family by the side of the trail. Their wagon tongue had broken rendering them unable to go any further. They begged the party to stop and when Carlisle did, they begged him to trade. They hadn't much, but whatever they had they were willing to trade to get the part they needed.

The Cullens and the Hales each had a spare-two spares total between their three wagons. But there was a good long leg of their journey left. It was entirely possible that they could end up in the same predicament much further down the line when the situation was more dire.

Bella clung to Edward's arm, taking what comfort she could from his nearness. She couldn't bring herself to look up. It broke her heart to imagine the family's plight. What a helpless feeling it must have been to be stuck in the middle of nowhere with no options, no hope save for the kindness of strangers who had their own family's welfare to consider.

To Bella's immense relief and James's consternation, Carlisle gave over his spare part. And even after that, they stayed on while Emmett and Edward helped replace the tongue.

"You wasted your time and your spare part and on top of that got a right horrible trade. That man took you, that's for sure," James said when they were on their way again.

Carlisle's answering tone was mild. "The man offered what he had, and truth be told, I'd have given it to him free of charge if I could have saved his pride at the same time."

James shook his head. "It's a mighty fine quality to have compassion for your fellow man. I ain't arguing that point. But out here, it can get you killed. They ain't the last family we'll pass who got themselves in a heap of trouble. You can't save them all. Not if you want to get where you're going."

"Thank you for your kind advice as always. I'll take it under advisement."

"What would you have done in Carlisle's shoes?" Bella asked Edward later when they were sitting together that evening.

Edward was quiet for a long minute before he spoke, his eyes downcast. "I would like to say I would make the same choice as Carlisle did. All things being equal, that would be my preference. Man with a wife and three little ones? Of course I'd want to help him."

"But," she prompted gently when he grew quiet again.

He sighed. "But James has a point. I've seen how desperate things can get out here. I've seen people trade the very last of their food for a wagon part on the hope they'll find game or be able to trade something else they're likely in dire need of. They live like that day to day as long as they're able."

He wound his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. "He's also right that we'll see more of this kind of thing." He tilted his head against hers and closed his eyes. "Yes, I would like to say I would be as altruistic as Carlisle. I know that would make you proud. But given the choice, I'm not sure I would have made the same call. I'd do anything to protect you, Bella. Anything at all."

"I know." Bella turned her head to him and nuzzled her nose against his whiskers. She pressed her hand to his back and found she didn't care if the others were watching them.

The third day brought them to a river crossing along the Sweetwater River. Edward's anxiety wasn't nearly what it had been at Three Island Crossing. Still, he kept his hand tight in hers as they forded the river behind the wagon. "Can I tell you a secret?" he asked as they stepped carefully.

"Of course."

"I'm happy to have the excuse to hold onto you. It was difficult for me before, especially those crossings that I couldn't see you."

"You shouldn't worry so-" Her words cut off with a yelp as her feet skidded forward. She heard Edward gasp, and before she could fall, he had his arms around her. He crushed her to his chest as they both scrambled to stay upright.

"Bella. Are you okay?" He was staring right at her, his eyes wild as he looked her up and down.

Before she could speak they were both falling. Bella's heart near about jumped up to her throat, but though there was a mighty splash, when she opened her eyes again, she was not submerged. Of course she wasn't. She was on her ass, chest deep in water beside her husband.

Emmett came into their eyesight, leaning on the walking stick he'd used to knock Edward's legs out from under him. "You were all but out of the water. There is such a thing as worrying too much, Edward."

This was what Bella had been about to tell Edward before she'd slipped.

There was a moment of relative silence-as silent as it could be with wagons, livestock, and humans alike crossing a rushing river-while Edward stared up at Emmett as though deciding what to do. Then he reached out, grabbed Emmett's stick with both hands and yanked. Bella squeaked in shock as Emmett's massive body produced an equally large splash. Edward pulled Bella closer to him, protecting her from Emmett's sputtering and flailing. When she looked back, Bella giggled at the smirk on his face.

Emmett got his bearing and looked for a second like an angry grizzly about to charge. Then he threw his head back and let out a loud guffaw. He clapped Edward's shoulder. "Well played."

"Oh, for heaven's sake." Esme had caught up to them by then and stood in ankle deep water with her hands on her hips. "Must I remind you three that you're full grown? I swear, Peter and Henry aren't this much trouble."

"Ah, none of this was my idea," Bella said.

"Such lies, Bella," Emmett said as they all got to their feet. "It was your fault we fell in the first place."

Before another scuffle could break out, Esme got Edward's attention. "Some of the cargo isn't secured as well as it should be. Do you think you can give me a hand?"

Edward nodded his acquiescence, kissed Bella's cheek, and hurried to the back of the wagon.

When they were out of sight, Emmett slung his arm around Bella's shoulders. She tensed and almost pulled away, but after a moment's consideration, she relaxed. Emmett chuckled. "Does that mean you'll talk to me again?"

Bella hadn't so much as looked at Emmett for the last three days. "If you're ready to come on down off your high horse then yes, I suppose I'll talk to you."

He hummed, and when she looked, there was a much more thoughtful expression on his face than she expected. "Maybe you got ahead of yourselves. Maybe he wasn't proper, but hell, neither am I most the time. He's been good to you these past days." He looked at her. "You're happy?"

She nodded.

"Then I've got no quarrel. I liked Edward well enough before all this."

Bella wrapped her arms around Emmett's waist. "Thank you."

~0~

Edward was distracted.

He was supposed to be checking the wagons over for damage and wear. The problem was he had quite the view of his wife, and he was wont to stare. How odd it was that watching her at the most mundane task could entice him. She was with the other women, setting about her usual evening chores.

Then again, everything about Bella seemed to entice him these days. Funny how a few words promised in front of a reverend made right so many of his previously clandestine thoughts. He was obsessed with the idea she was touchable now, that he could stare freely.

How ironic it was. Carlisle and the others had forced this marriage on them because they suspected his carnal interest in Bella. Previous to their vows, Edward had no carnal interest. Well, that wasn't entirely true. It had not escaped his notice that Bella was a beautiful young woman, but he was still enough of a gentleman that he hadn't allowed himself to think of a lady like that. His desire to kiss her and hold her before had only been a manifestation of his affection for her, his need to protect her, her growing importance to him.

Now, though, there was an itch beneath his skin that was getting progressively more difficult to ignore. It had been there before, but he had not acknowledged it. Now it had permission, and it was all he could do to convince that wild, wanton part of him to be patient.

He had pledged the rest of his life to Bella, but that depended on her living long enough to fulfil that promise. Damn Carlisle and the rest for giving him the right to think on her the way he was.

It bothered him at times that she seemed so content to merely lay in his arms at night. She would curl up against him with her head on his chest and her hand resting warm on his belly. As he answered her questions and told her stories about his family, his life, his time on the trail, it was all he could do to concentrate on his words. What he wanted more than anything was for her hand to drift lower. Sometimes he swore she knew what he was thinking and teased him on purpose. Her fingers would skim the hem of shirt, brush the skin underneath, before she pulled back.

He'd wondered more than once if she felt the same fire for him as he felt for her.

But then he had to remind himself that she was a young girl and innocent besides. She knew nothing of the physical act of love. The idea made him nervous.

Maggie had been young but innocent she was not. Suffice to say Ireland had different social rules than America did. In fact, Maggie had disabused him of several popular notions, the most revealing of which had been that women could and did enjoy physical relations as much as men.

And therein was the problem. Bella had likely been raised believing giving her body over to her husband was among her marital obligations. Many considered women who wanted sex to be deviant. It was his duty to guide her in such matters.

Which was why, he told himself, it was a good thing she was so innocent. He was man enough to admit, if only to himself, there was no way his self-control could resist a Bella in command of her feminine wiles.

A man clearing his throat drew Edward's attention to the fact he was staring blatantly at his wife now, not even attempting to finish his work. Guilty, he looked up to find Carlisle on the opposite end of the wagon, checking the wheels he should have been long done with. Edward ducked his head. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize." Carlisle offered Edward a smile he hadn't seen in days. "You seemed troubled."

"Troubled." Edward stroked his beard, turning the word over in his head. He was happy Carlisle had approached him and didn't want to spark his ire again. "It's been a long time since I've thought like a husband. It's been a long time since I've thought of a future at all."

"And now?"

Edward huffed out a short laugh. "I wonder at every minute decision I have yet to make and even those I didn't make. I didn't choose to bring her on this journey, but I still wonder if it's the right choice and if I will ever be certain."

"I think I can answer that. The only certainty I know is that there will always be those moments of pure terror when you fear you've made the wrong decision for you and your family."

For some reason, Edward was taken aback. "You're uncertain about your choices?"

"Very much so." Carlisle gestured around them. "Every day I wonder if it would have been a wiser decision to travel by ship. It can be done, of course. It's such a long trip, and the sea seems more dangerous than the trail on most days. In cramped quarters it's easier to catch disease, and if something goes wrong, there's nowhere to go. It too is a long journey, but would it have been preferable?"

He studied Edward for a long moment before he spoke again, his tone soft. "I hope I'm not overstepping my boundaries here, but… Well, I know your father isn't here to tell you, so I'll let you in on a secret. I can guarantee that he couldn't have taught you to find the perfect road through life because it doesn't exist. It didn't exist for him and it won't exist for you."

Edward opened his mouth but quickly shut it again when he realized he had no idea what he was about to say. With those simple words, a weight had been lifted from his heart, and he took his first deep breath in too many years. He knew those things at some level. He understood. Yet hearing Carlisle speak them out loud brought him some small semblance of peace.

He'd thought for so long he'd missed something, some important piece of information that if he'd just been paying attention, he would have known better than to try to take Maggie out on the trail.

Truth be told, he hadn't missed a thing. With Carlisle's words, that knowledge sunk in and settled in the marrow of his bones.

A minute later, Bella approached. Her eyes darted from Edward to Carlisle and back, her expression wary. He got to his feet to greet her, and he smiled a little easier.

That evening, he gave himself a respite from worry. He took the time to appreciate the family he'd stumbled into and the second chance he'd been given. He let himself smile and kiss his beautiful wife with abandon. He let himself believe he deserved the wonderful gifts he'd been given.

After dinner, it was as though Edward's buoyed mood was infectious. He was sitting with his arm around Bella, both of them quiet as they listened to the others. Across the camp, Jasper pulled out his guitar.

It had been some time since the emigrants danced at night after a long day's far into their journey, moods tended to be more somber, reflecting all that had been suffered or lost. But it only took a few soft chords of Jasper's guitar to draw the attention of the other musicians, and soon a proper shindig was in full swing.

Beside Edward, Bella began to sway in time with the music, her side bumping against his. He recalled how often he watched the merriment from afar-the young people dancing while the elders looked on, proud of their happy brood. He remembered the flush of Bella's cheeks and the smile that played about her lips, the laughter that fell from her mouth when she and Alice danced together.

Edward got to his feet and offered his hand to Bella. Her eyes were curious but uncertain, as though she hadn't yet figured out what he wanted, but she put her trusting hand in his and let him pull her up. When he wrapped an arm around her waist and held their other joined hands out, her eyes went wide.

"Edward. I can't dance."

He brought their joined hands to her face so he could brush her nose without letting her go. "Now that, Mrs. Masen, I know is a damned lie."

He didn't give her another chance to protest. The musicians were playing a fast song, and he threw them headlong into it. Though it had been so many years since he'd danced, he found the steps came back to him quickly or they were ad libbed easily enough. He heard her quick intake of breath, but she followed where he led, a wide smile spreading over her pretty face.

God, she was beautiful.

It took no time at all before they were both pink cheeked and laughing in each other's arms. Edward had forgotten this- what it was to let all the weight of life slip away for a few minutes frivolity. He used to like dances in his youth. He used to like the pretty dresses the girls wore and the way their satin and lace felt brushing his pants as they danced.

They were all so young then. Young and without a clue what the world could hand them.

Back then, dances ended with a respectful bow and Edward offering his arm to lead the young lady back to her family or escort. That night, when the end of a song found Edward and Bella breathless and panting, he didn't step away from her. Bella's traveling clothes were much thinner than the big dresses of his youth, and their dancing not nearly as proper. Her body was hot against his, only amplifying the heat coursing through him. Her hair was mussed, her grin happy, and the spark in her eyes only for him.

His wife.

He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her in a way that was very much improper in front of the gathered crowd.

Another song began, but Edward didn't move. He stayed still as his will wavered, his body tense because he knew what he wanted, what he should not want, what he didn't think he could possibly have under the circumstances.

Bella stared steadily back at him. Her grin fell and her eyes darkened as they darted down to his lips and back up. In that moment, there was no question. He didn't have to read minds to know she felt this thing between them, the heat not only of their skin but in the air. The magnetism.

Edward swallowed hard. He took a step away from her, but only to take her hand. She followed, ever trusting, as he led her beyond the ring of the fire into the trees. He didn't go far, just enough that they were out of sight of prying eyes.

There, he snapped under the weight of his desires. He spun Bella to face him and pressed her back against the trunk of a sturdy tree. She whimpered, but she was indeed of the same mind as he. Her hands went to his face and her fingers tangled in his hair. She pushed her body up while he pressed his down on her.

Not close enough. She was not nearly close enough. His hand skimmed along her side, down past her waist. He found the crook of her knee and brought it up to hitch it over his waist.

Abruptly, rational thought caught up to him. He broke their fervent kiss with a gasp and groaned as he buried his face against her neck. That was almost his undoing. He could smell the salt of her skin there, and it only enticed him more.

But what was he going to do? Would he pull them to the forest floor or take her there against that tree? Putting aside the fact the reasons he had not bedded her on their wedding night still stood, it was his duty to take care of Bella. This was not the way.

Reluctant, he pulled away enough that the chill of the evening cooled his skin. In the moonlight, she blinked at him, her hands still clasped at his shoulders. He sighed and kissed her, a lingering but chaste kiss.

"You are too tempting for either of our good," he murmured, tilting his forehead against hers. He kissed the tip of her nose and with another sigh, stepped backward. He took her hand. "Come, love. It's late. We'll sleep soundly tonight."

A/N: My, my, my. Whatever will he do when she figures out those wiles of hers? Tsk.

Many thanks to barburella, jessypt, and songster. MWAH!