Chapter summary: Sheriff Swan and Bella give a house-warming gift to the Hales, surprising them. Being neighborly, Bella asks to visit the bed-ridden 'Lillian' Hale.

Pa and I called on the Hales just after noon. I had prepared a pan of corn bread as a welcoming gift, and we rode there: me on Dolly, a steady appy mare — she was good, you know, for me — and Pa on Patches, a Pinto. It's kind of funny thinking of Pa riding on Patches, a horse bred for battle, because if there was ever a man of peace, it would be Pa. But Patches and Pa had been riding together for years, they knew each other well. Patches knew he couldn't get away with anything with Pa's firm hand, and Pa knew Patches would have no problems taking me for a ride. So, it was easy-going Dolly for me.

Except she wasn't so easy-going today for some reason. As we got closer to the Hales, both Dolly and Patches became more skittish. We dismounted at the edge of Hale's property, securing the horses to hitching posts there. Once they knew they no longer needed to proceed, both horses settled down a bit.

How odd!

We walked the rest of the way, which wasn't very far, and knocked at the door. Dr. Hale answered and opened the door: "Ah! Sheriff Swan, Miss Swan, please do come in!" He immediately stepped back, inviting us in.

Pa answered: "Dr. Hale, please, it's just 'Charlie'. Bella and I thought to call on you and see how you were moving in. I hope this isn't a bad time?"

"No, no, no. Not at all; please do sit down." His protestation was all a matter of form, but was there just a hint of strain around his eyes?

I looked around the house before sitting on a large couch facing inward. It still needed a lot of work, but the Hales had been very busy. The exterior needed a paint job, but the overgrowth had been cleared away, and the lawn was trimmed, even. The interior was even better: the living room was arranged with furniture, and it looked like they were changing the layout of the house to make room for what appeared to be a music room. A grand piano peeked out prominently from what used to be a dividing wall which was now partially knocked down. Their furniture had arrived several weeks before they did, but still ...

"You certainly didn't waste any time unpacking!" Awe touched my voice.

Musical laughter responded from the adjoining kitchen as Mrs. Hale came out to sit next to her husband. "Why, thank you, dear!" With her voice, I wondered if she was a soloist. I quickly closed my gaping mouth — great first impression, country girl! I berated myself — and offered my corn bread: "Mrs. Hale, so nice to see you again. I made a little something as a house-warming gift." She accepted it gracefully, "How kind of you!" and brought it to the kitchen.

But then she returned, empty-handed. I looked over at Pa, and he returned my glance. No offer of tea or coffee to go with the bread? Even if they had just eaten, that lack seemed a little unneighborly. There was an awkward silence. I looked to Pa to recover the situation, but he was never much a talker, and, on top of that, never comfortable in social settings.

That's my Pa: Sheriff Smoothie.

"I also wanted to meet your sister, Dr. Hale. I hope, under your care, she's recovering well?" I know there was at least once when it wasn't "Bella to the rescue", but don't ask me to nail down the date and time.

The Hales exchanged a glance. "Oh, yes, she's improving," Dr. Hale answered without the slightest pause, "but she's currently not in the condition to leave her bed. I'm afraid she's not much for company now."

Hm. Not much for company, but fine for traveling cross-country? Something didn't sit right. "Oh, that's quite all right, Doctor, I'll just peek my head in and say hello. I'm sure she's dying of boredom, being cooped up in her room. One little minute can't hurt, right? It may actually improve her spirits." I stood up, determined.

Dr. Hale didn't look particularly pleased with this turn of events, and Pa looked downright uncomfortable. "Bella," he whispered, "if the girl's not ..." But I hissed "Pa!" and shot him down with a glare and a shake of my head before turning to Dr. Hale with a warm, but firm, smile. Both Dr. and Mrs. Hale rose, and Pa, belatedly, with them.

"You may visit for just one minute only, then, Miss Swan. But I'll ask you to speak with her quietly: she has migraine headaches, so bright lights and loud noises, even at normal speaking tones, can cause her intense pains. It would be better if you went by yourself, Miss Swan, so as to not exhaust her, if that's all right with you, Charlie."

I didn't wait for Pa's blessings, "Thank you so much, Dr. Hale, if you'll just point the way ..."

"I'll bring you, Miss Swan." I nearly jumped out of my skin. It was Edward, magically appearing by the doorway to the music room. Granted, most of that room was obscured from view, but it had been deathly quiet in there. I wouldn't have guessed there was a soul alive in there, but Edward's sudden appearance said otherwise.

I restarted my heart and tried to sound casual: "Thank you, Mr. Platt, and please call me 'Bella'." It was hard to talk casually with him looking like that. It was hard to talk at all with him looking at me that way. I forced my mouth to grin pleasantly.

"I will do so, if you call me 'Edward'." He grinned back pleasantly, too, but I'm willing to bet his grin worked so much better on me than mine did on him.

"Well, then, Edward, please lead the way"

"My pleasure, Bella." Oooh, he was so comfortably smug! "Please follow me," and he headed off down the hall into the living area. I reminded my legs how to move in order to follow him. At the end of the hallway, he turned to me, pressing his finger to his lips, and knocked softly on one of the doors and whispered, "Lillian, we have a guest who would like to visit you."

"Come in." was the weak reply. Weak, but, was the entire family musical? And how did she hear Edward through the door, when I barely could standing right next to him? Edward opened the door just enough for me to slip by him — my pulse raced at our proximity — and into the darkened room. He quickly followed closing the door behind him.

And there, in a four-poster bed, probably king sized, because I had never seen a bed so large, sat Lillian Hale.