Chapter 16

It was past Christmas time. The post office and Chapel were still decorated in Christmas lights that lit up the night, reflecting off the snow. With what few people the town had, Christmas Eve had been spent caroling together next to a tree in town that had been decorated with pride. After the caroling, the Reverend Tanner's wife had some children over, reading them Christmas stories and making the children excited for Christmas morning, reminding them that they needed to be good. Then on Christmas Day, Mrs. Tanner prepared a great feast for the town with two large turkeys, plenty of mashed potatoes, giblet gravy, green bean casserole, sweet potato casserole, and of course plenty of buttery biscuits, pecan pie and pumpkin pie. The townspeople made themselves joyously and gratefully fat off the offerings and the day after Christmas, the whole town came to a screeching halt, recovering from the meal the night before. Sgt. Lovejoy and his men enjoyed the festivities along with the townspeople, drinking and eating their fill until their bellies couldn't handle any more. Peter was the only one who hadn't enjoyed himself. He ate, he listened to the carolers and Mrs. Tanner tell her stories, but there was no joy to be had in any of it. He'd spent New Year's Eve in the room he and the men had been provided, wanting nothing to do with it. He'd remembered that Renesmee had mentioned her mother being Scottish and how every New Year's, they would sing Auld Lang Syne. She'd promised she'd sing it for him on New Year's. Every time Peter thought to himself, 'it'll just have to wait until next year,' he started to cry. At the rate Sgt. Lovejoy, Harrison and Mitchell were going, they'd never find Renesmee.

At the moment, Peter was sitting next to the window of the inn looking out onto the town. They were still hopelessly snowed in. No one was going anywhere out of town. Even crossing the street was difficult in this weather. Mrs. Tanner brought Peter some hot chocolate she'd spiked with some whiskey. She could see the man needed something to help relax him. Peter thanked the woman and drank his spiked cocoa while he continued to just stare out the window.

"Staring at it won't make the snow melt faster," Mitchell said from behind Peter. Silence ensued a moment. "Did Barb make you that?" he asked about the hot chocolate.

"Yes," he answered.

"Did she spike it?" Peter only nodded. "I might ask for some myself." Mitchell walked to the small kitchen to the side and asked Mrs. Tanner for the same thing she'd given Peter. After Mitchell had his drink, he walked back to the window with Peter. "On a cold day like this, hot chocolate really hits the spot." Peter didn't answer. "Look," Mitchell began after an awkward silence. "I know you think we're not trying, but we are. You have to understand we've never traveled this far to rescue someone from Indians. Usually, if anyone is kidnapped, their captors are within a thirty mile radius. We've traveled over 100 miles so far! For a kidnapping by Indians, that's unheard of!" Peter still didn't answer.

"Don't waste your breathe on him," Harrison said as he walked up from behind them. "No matter what we say, he'll continue to pout."

"The two of you don't understand," Peter grumbled. "My wife was kidnapped. I'm entitled to be worried and to be upset with the lack of progress."

"As I said before, Mr. Wallis, this is the farthest we've ever had to search."

"Hell," Harrison started, "I'm beginning to wonder if she was taken by Indians at all. Maybe it was bandits that have the resources to travel long distances. Or maybe she ran away." Peter shot a look at Harrison, though said nothing. In truth he didn't know how to respond to that.

"Stop making the man worry more," Mitchell said.

"It's not as if sitting around is making him worry any less," Harrison said before he sniffed the air and looked at the mug in Mitchell's hand. "Is that hot chocolate?"

"Whiskey hot chocolate," Mitchell smiled.

"Naturally," Harrison and Mitchell chuckled as Harrison walked over to the bar to request his own mug of spiked hot chocolate. Moments later, Sgt. Lovejoy came downstairs looking chipper as ever.

"Good morning, boys," he said to the three.

"Morning Sergeant. Get some whiskey hot chocolate and join the party," Mitchell offered.

"A party?" Sgt. Lovejoy enquired, noticing Peter at the window with his own mug. Though by the look on his face, he knew that man was certainly in no partying mood.

"Just ignore him sir," Harrison said when he noticed Sgt. Lovejoy looking at Peter. "He's just being a wet blanket."

"You're heartless, all of you," Peter mumbled.

"Now, now, I'll have no arguing," Sgt. Lovejoy said. "I said we'd leave as soon as the snow melted and I meant that. But we aren't going out there in those conditions. It would be suicide to travel in weather like this."

"So you've said," Peter mumbled and chugged the rest of his hot chocolate. "I'm going back upstairs."

None of the three said a thing while Peter walked away. He heard them eventually talk about him once he was upstairs, but their voices died down once he was in the room. Peter looked out the window again staring out into a field of emptiness save for the layers of piled snow. It all seemed so hopeless to him and Sgt. Lovejoy's and his men's lackadaisical approach to finding his wife was not helping. He pulled out Renesmee's picture from his coat pocket. It was the picture that had been sent to him before they'd met officially. It had been the first time he'd looked at her and he'd been enthralled from the start. It was such a simple photo of her in a lovely little dress, though he couldn't tell the color of it. The picture was a faded shade of brown, so it didn't truly do her beauty justice. Her light brownish red hair was lost in the mugginess of the photo and her flawless skin was blemished by an imperfect shot. But even with that, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. When he'd seen her for the first time in the flesh, no blemished photo or brown undertone to ruin her beauty, he'd fallen in love all over again and he was convinced he was the luckiest man in the world.

As he looked at her picture, their wedding night came to his mind and he held his head down. He'd been so ashamed, yet she'd been sweet enough not to say a thing. He'd often thought of trying again, but every time he thought to, he was far too embarrassed. Then Renesmee went so far as to make his mother's apple recipes that he'd not had in years. It'd almost brought him to tears when he saw all those jars. He remembered being so excited to tell Renesmee how much everyone had loved her apple butter and jams. He'd known that would've made her happy. He was under no disillusion that she was discontented with the town doctor refusing her expertise as a nurse, so he'd been eager to give Renesmee something that she could excel at and that the people would love her for. It'd all come crumbling down when he came home and Renesmee was nowhere to be found. Peter put the photo back in his coat pocket and laid down on his bed in an attempt to sleep. There was nothing else he could do while stuck in this town. Minutes passed before Sgt. Lovejoy stepped into the room and stood next to the bed where Peter rested his head.

"Barb told me something interesting," Sgt. Lovejoy said, though Peter didn't respond. "Harrison had mentioned the possibility that bandits might be culpable for your wife's disappearance, so I asked Barb if she knew anything since people pass through so frequently. She said she doesn't know anything about bandits and frankly, I still think bandits are out of the question. If it were really bandits, they would've robbed you of more than just your wife and servant. Jewelry is easier to sell than a white woman."

"You said Barb told you something interesting," Peter interrupted.

"Yes," Sgt. Lovejoy nodded. "She was telling me about people that travel through this town and take refuge in this chapel. Do you recall, some time ago, when I'd told you about the Quileute tribe and how hostile they're known for being?"

"Vaguely," Peter answered.

"Well, she was telling me about traders from a town near there, Forks it's called. They come here with older gentleman that supposedly used to be enslaved by the Quileutes."

"Alright," Peter answered, not sure where Sgt. Lovejoy was going with this.

"She was telling me that some of these individuals make bizarre claims about their former masters. They would swear that, supposedly, the tribe held control over wolves and it made them able to travel vast distances."

"Are you trying to tell me that my wife was kidnapped by magical wolves?" Peter asked as he sat up with his irritation and, quite frankly, disdain for his rational thinking to be so brazenly insulted clear in his voice.

"Calm yourself, Mr. Wallis, that's not what I'm saying. What I am saying is maybe we're going in the right direction. Mitchell was telling me earlier that he'd said to you this is the farthest we've had to look for a missing person by Indians, and that's true. However, maybe we've underestimated just how far some Indians are capable of going. The Spokane Indians, for instance, had a large number of horses at their disposal before we massacred their beasts and took the tribe under our thumb. Perhaps some tribes to the north have some means of long distance travel that we're not aware of."

"A magic carpet perhaps," Peter said sarcastically.

"Don't give me that," Sgt. Lovejoy ordered. "I'm offering a possible location to where your wife might be. I'll not have you scoff at my attempts to keep you updated."

"Unless you're telling me we leave now for Forks, I'm not terribly concerned with a tribe's means of transportation." Peter rubbed his fingers through his hair. "You think she's likely with a tribe up north is what you're saying?"

"I'm saying let's not push it from the table as a likely possibility. I've no doubt that the reference to control over animals is pure nonsense brought on by years of closed off conditioning and torture, but I wouldn't completely discredit the reference to long distances. Perhaps there's some merit to that. We can't rule it out." Peter took a deep breath and looked up at Sgt. Lovejoy.

"If a tribe like the Quileute took her, do you think she's alright?" Peter barely got the last part of his question out before he held his head back down.

"I can't make you many promises, Mr. Wallis, but I can promise one thing to you beyond a reasonable doubt: whatever tribe took your wife, they will be punished for their crime. If that crime remains simple kidnapping, they'll be handled accordingly and the Indians identified as the perpetrators will be jailed and shipped to work on railroads until they can't work anymore. If it's murder, they'll be hanged at the gallows." Peter didn't answer. In truth, even if he could find comfort in such a prospect, it wouldn't change what happened to Renesmee nor would if bring her back should that be the outcome that befell her. "Anyway, don't you worry. I promised you we'd leave as soon as we're able and I mean that wholeheartedly. We'll find her, Mr. Wallis. No matter what."

It was morning in the tribe. A few weeks had gone by since Jacob and Renesmee's wedding and things went back to their usual place following the wedding. That morning, Jacob and Renesmee were lying in bed together. He'd just returned from patrol for that night finding Renesmee sleeping in their bed. Since it was dawn at the time he came home, Jacob decided to let her sleep and took a spot next to her so he could join her. He woke up again when Renesmee's head was on his shoulder and her hand on his chest. She'd attempted to leave shortly after, but Jacob convinced her to stay just a little longer. Afterwards, Jacob pulled their blanket over their naked bodies to block the cold and they laced their fingers together affectionately. While doing that, Jacob looked at the ring on Renesmee's middle finger.

"You're still wearing that?" he asked when he saw it. Renesmee looked at the ring and took her hand away so she could slip it off.

"I forgot I was wearing it. It's supposed to be worn on the ring finger," Renesmee pointed to her left ring finger so Jacob would know what she was referring to. "It was too big, so I've been wearing it on my middle finger. I actually forgot it was my wedding ring," she admitted.

"The one I gave you is better," he mumbled to himself, making Renesmee smile at him genuinely. After taking off the ring, she looked at it a moment thoughtfully before taking a deep breath.

"I don't know if I should just toss it aside, though."

"What else could we do with it?"

"Janine might be able to get some use out of it," Renesmee suggested.

"What would a prostitute need with a wedding ring?" Jacob asked with a raised eyebrow.

"She could sell it and make a little extra money. She certainly needs it more than we do."

"I guess so," Jacob said. "We'll bring it to her tonight."

"Assuming we can find her," Renesmee sighed. "It's freezing outside. I doubt she would be outside right now. She's probably finding clients in bars or something."

"We'll look in bars then. No big deal," Jacob answered.

"Jacob, my picture's been plastered all over the city. I can't just walk into a bar looking for her. For that matter, could you? I doubt they would turn you away, but I doubt they would leave you be either."

"I'm sure I'll be fine," Jacob said and kissed her forehead. Then he took a hold of the ring Renesmee held and began to look at it. "So what's the story behind these things?"

"Wedding rings?" Jacob nodded. "I don't know right off hand. I know it's worn on the left ring finger because it's said there's a vein in that finger that goes straight to your heart. That's what I've been told anyway. I'm sure there's more to the tradition than that, but I just don't know it." Jacob huffed a little.

"Straight to your heart, huh?" He took a deep breath and sighed.

"What's the tradition behind these?" Renesmee asked, holding up her right wrist to show the band.

"It's what Quiyaketagave to Zaquitai when they married. It's said when they married wearing their skins, he presented her with a thin woven band made from his hair to show they were bound forever."

"Isn't this made of wood?"

"Yeah," Jacob nodded. "Turns out Quiyaketa's hair was a lot more durable than later generations. Their own hair used to be the traditional way to do it, but they would ware so quickly that it became impractical. I think it was their first grandson that came up with using wood instead of hair. From then, it just stayed that way. The shell was my little embellishment," Jacob said proudly.

"I noticed," Renesmee smiled. "Some women have a diamond on their wedding ring."

"What's a diamond?" Rather than try to explain it, Renesmee brought her hand to his face and showed him a diamond ring and some diamond necklaces and bracelets that her mother, aunts and grandmother had. "It's a rock?" Jacob asked with some mild disbelief.

"It's a very rare and special rock."

"What's so special about it? I find rocks with purple in them all the time when I'm in the woods and the mountains. Why aren't those special?"

"Because they're common and easy to find. Stones like diamonds, Amethysts which are purple, rubies, sapphires, all those stones are hard to find and that makes them special. The same thing applies to gold and silver. They're hard to find so they're valuable."

"It's a rock, though," Jacob said. "You can't eat it, it doesn't protect from the cold, there's nothing special about it except that it's uncommon."

"The uncommonness of it is what makes it special. To my knowledge, most diamonds are from Africa and they're really hard to get because they're found in Volcanoes."

"What's a volcano?"

"It's like the mountains near here, but they're hollow and are filled with fire and hot rocks."

"So on top of it being a rock that has no value outside of being pretty, people risk their lives going into fire to get them?" Renesmee snickered a little.

"When you put it like that, it seems a little silly." Renesmee looked at the shell on her wedding band bracelet, admiring it. "We should probably go outside now," she eventually said.

"Eh," Jacob mumbled reluctantly. They eventually left their tent for the day and didn't reconvene until it was night.

When it was late enough, Renesmee dressed in some warm apparel including some boots Jacob's mother had helped her make and they made their way to Seattle. They arrived at the dock first thing like always, then came the process of trying to figure out where Janine might be. They double checked the dock outside, but didn't find her. Seeing as there was roughly two feet of snow and it was below freezing, that wasn't surprising.

"What about that hotel near here?" Jacob asked.

"What hotel?"

"It's the one on 16th Ave. over there," Jacob pointed to the west of Harbor Island where 16th Ave. rested and low and behold, there was a large building in their view with a large sign that said Hotel with the word Vacancies right below it. "It's worth a look."

"Okay, we'll start there. Let's be careful."

The two crossed the bridge to the west until they reached 16th Ave. Renesmee stayed hidden behind another building when the saw some patrons come out of the bar that looked to be attached to the hotel. One man in particular, a very large and tall man, was wobbling in their direction alone. When he was close enough, Jacob gently nudged the man into the ally they were in and he didn't put up a fight at Jacob essentially moving the man like a toy car. In fact, Jacob had thought he would need to punch the man to knock him out, but the whiskey seemed to do that for him. The man fell asleep against the dumpster and started snoring so loudly they feared someone might come to investigate. Jacob moved fast to strip the man of his shoes, pants and shirt and dressed quickly, putting his own clothes on the man so he would have something to protect him from the elements while he was away. He returned the boots to the man, though. The boots were too snug, so Jacob opted to keep on his own fur lined boots. After he was dressed in dirty brown pants, and an oversized plaid long sleeve shirt, Jacob stayed with her a moment to make sure she'd be alright if he left her outside alone. Even so, he had no intention of taking long.

"Where's the ring?" Jacob asked Renesmee. She took it off her finger one last time and handed it to Jacob. "I won't take long. Just wait out here for me."

"Alright," Renesmee answered. "And Jacob?"

"Yeah?"

"If she's in there, make sure to thank her for distracting the Soldier last time."

"Alright," Jacob answered.

He gave her a kiss on the lips before making his way to the bar end of the hotel in the hopes Janine would be there. When he stepped into the bar, no one really paid attention to him. Regardless, Jacob tried to keep his search quick as he looked over the crowd hoping that Janine might be there. He didn't see her, but just to be sure he started towards the bar to ask the man cleaning mugs if he'd seen a prostitute by that name. But as Jacob made his way to the bar, he saw Janine walking down the stairs off to the right arm in arm with a man that seemed in a mood crossed between being pleased with himself and too drunk to really know why. He started slowly towards Janine as she said her cheerful goodbyes to who he could only imagine was a client. She glanced off hand in Jacob's direction and when she saw him, she looked at him strangely before accepting the man's money and walking over to Jacob.

"Well, well," she said with a smile when she was right in front of him. "Look who went and got himself all dressed up. And all just to see little old me?" she teased.

"Sorry to take you away from your work," Jacob said, but Janine waved her hand dismissively.

"Don't be. The man was boring and he reeked of bad whiskey. I'm more interested in what brings you here. Where's the miss? I'll warn you right now not to say her name in here. There's a small clutch of soldiers in here and more than a small handful of men that wouldn't mind winning that nice little reward for finding her."

"She's outside," Jacob answered. "We actually came to give you this." Jacob held out his hand, presenting the gold band to Janine and she giggled a little.

"A wedding band? What on earth would I do with that thing?"

"Ren-," Jacob began, but stopped himself. "She suggested that we give it to you so you could sell it and make a little extra money for yourself."

"Oh," Janine answered as she finally took the ring. "I suppose she'd be right about that. It might get me $100 at least."

"Glad you're able to get more use out of it than her. Also, she asked me to thank you for distracting that soldier for us last time."

"Oh, think nothing of it." Janine placed the ring in her pocket.

"From what I understand of money, $100's more than it's worth."

Janine laughed. "Well aren't you being hostile. One should not be so over a woman he has no claim to," she proceeded to joke.

"I married her. I'd say that gives me some justification."

"You two got married?" she asked, though not entirely surprised. "Well forgive my rudeness Mr. Cullen."

"What?"

"Never mind," she waved her hand dismissively as she giggled at her joke. "So when did you love birds get married?"

"Cullen's her," Jacob stopped a moment, "the name she had before she married Peter."

"Her maiden name you mean? Yes; or so one of my clients told me. I asked about her and he said to me the father's willing to pay a nice little mint for her return. I told you that part already, though. Now answer my question: when did you two get married?"

"A few days after New Years."

"Well aren't you romantic?" Janine said with a smile. Then her face changed to a different look of excitement. "Does your lady love play the violin?"

"What's a violin?"

"You wait right here," Janine said before she ran upstairs and eventually came back down with a curved wooden thing with holes and strings and a long stick with some kind of off white thing on it. "One of my clients stiffed me and left this instead of money. Consider this my wedding present to the two of you." Jacob took hold of the instrument and bow when it was handed to him and he proceeded to examine it. He plucked one of the strings and produced a high pitched sound that startled him. "I see you've never played a fiddle in your life," Janine joked.

"I thought you said it was a violin," Jacob said.

"Fiddle, violin, same thing," she said. "You get going now. It's freezing out there and it's not very proper for a husband to leave his poor wife outside in the cold." Jacob gave Janine a mean look and it made her laugh. "Oh don't be that way you silly boy, I'm just teasing. Now off with you. I've got tricks to turn."

Rather than ask her to explain what her last statement meant, Jacob thanked Janine and left the bar with the violin and bow in hand. Renesmee was just where Jacob left her, as was the drunk that so kindly lent Jacob the use of his clothes.

"He slept like a log the whole time you were gone," Renesmee joked when Jacob came back and then looked at the violin and bow in his hand. "Where'd the violin come from?"

"This?" Jacob held up the instrument. "Janine gave it to me. She said to think of it as her wedding gift. I don't suppose you know how to use this do you?"

"I'm better at the piano, but I know a few songs on the violin." Renesmee took the instrument and propped it on her shoulder, resting her chin on the violin with her hands on the slender neck and the bow in her free hand. She started plucking the strings to produce sound, and then started to adjust the strings by twisting the knobs at the top of the neck. Once the sounds being made were to her liking, she started playing a familiar song. "I know Auld Lang Syne," she said once she started playing.

"I like it," Jacob said.

"I know a few other songs, but this is the song mom knew how to play. My grandpa had been a fiddler himself and it was the first thing he taught my mother how to play."

"You seemed more comfortable when you're playing the piano," Jacob observed.

"I favored it, so I played it the most. I could always rely on mom to play the violin if anyone wanted a duet."

"What's a duet?"

"When two people are playing an instrument or singing together. More than three or so is when you reach an orchestra. That's a large group of people playing instruments together." Renesmee took the violin away from her shoulder and wrapped her finger around the bow in the same hand she held the violin. "We'd better get back."

Upon returning, they both went right to their tent and went to sleep. The violin was propped against the wall on the other side of the tent. They stayed in bed together well into the morning with no desire to leave their tent until someone came to their tent patting on their door telling them to wake up and make themselves useful. Whoever had made the rude awakening, they were both very groggy so they couldn't be sure on voice alone, they managed to retain some humor in their voice and it made Jacob chuckle. Renesmee managed a small laugh as well despite still being mostly asleep. Renesmee pushed herself up first and stretched, reaching her arms above her head. When she'd stretched to her satisfaction, she noticed Jacob hadn't gotten up with her. He seemed to just roll over and go right back to sleep. Renesmee smiled at him and started rubbing his back, trying to get him to wake back up.

"Time to wake up, Jacob," Renesmee said.

"We were out all night," Jacob answered back in Quileute. "We sleep in."

"You stay out all hours of the night all the time and you're usually out and about during the day."

"I usually get to take naps throughout the night. I didn't get a nap last night. It's still time for sleep."

"I didn't get much sleep either, Jacob," Renesmee pointed out.

"Exactly. It's still sleep time." Jacob reached for Renesmee's arm and pulled her back down onto the blanket with him. He pulled the other blanket back on top of them as Renesmee giggled.

"For someone who's so tired, you're certainly being pushy." Jacob just groaned while he firmly held Renesmee to his chest. "I'll let you sleep in, but I really should get out there."

"Sokajili's perfectly capable of crushing his own herbs."

"That's not all I do," Renesmee said.

"Fine," Jacob groaned. "Just five more minutes." Renesmee kept smiling and rested her head against Jacob's chest. Yet five minutes passed and then some. So Caevia, who'd made the initial request, came back to their tent and patted on their door again.

"Come on, you two have slept in enough! Come outside," Caevia said, this time waiting for them at the door. She'd not be so pushy normally, but there had been a few kids that just came to Sokajili with cuts and bruises from slipping on some ice and he needed some extra hands.

"That was Caevia," Renesmee moaned as she forced her eyes open. She pushed herself up again and went outside. Jacob remained asleep. "Sorry about that."

"Just get to Sokajili's tent. Some kids fell on some ice and he needs help mending them up."

Renesmee smiled, "They fell on some ice? How many kids?"

"Two," Caevia answered. "One of the kids is Claire, so Quil's already over there. I think he thinks it's worse than it is. Claire's crying, sure, but from what I could tell, all she had were a few bumps. If anyone should be crying, it's Zitiali. That poor girl's got a nasty cut on her arm. I think she slid on a branch."

"Poor things," Renesmee said. "I'll get to Sokajili's tent, but go ahead and let Jacob sleep."

"Fine with me," Caevia said. "The village seems to run just fine whether he's asleep or awake." Renesmee swatted Caevia's arm, but still couldn't help a giggle. Caevia giggled too. "Don't hit a pregnant woman, Renesmee," she joked.

When Renesmee arrived at Sokajili's tent, he was treating Zitiali, trying to clean the cut on her arm. It wasn't bleeding anymore thankfully and though her face was still a little puffy, she wasn't crying anymore either. Claire, on the other hand, was still crying as she hugged Quil around his stomach with her face against his skin crying that her butt hurt while Quil patted her back trying to comfort her. Renesmee stepped over and looked Claire over. She had a small scratch on her cheek and she had a bad bruise on her right shoulder. Renesmee gently touched the area and had Claire move her arm around to determine if her arm was broken. Thankfully, her arm was fine. She was a little banged up, but nothing she couldn't recover from. Renesmee took the opportunity to look at Claire's bullet wound just to make sure that wasn't affected. Thankfully, that was also showing to be healing nicely. At this point, it was just a small red spot that would eventually heal white or a very pale tan color.

"You're alright, Claire. By the sound of the fall, you may have bruised your butt, but that'll be fine eventually. Make sure to sit on a pillow for a while or lay on your stomach."

"Okay,"she sniffled, but she was still tearing up. Zitiali was still tearing up a little too while Sokajili finished cleaning the cut and wrapping it.

"Sokajili, I'm going to grab something from my tent really quick."

"I expect you back before I finish this," he said while she walked out. Renesmee went to her tent and grabbed the violin, all without ever waking Jacob, and went right back to Sokajili's tent with the violin and bow. "What is that thing?" he asked when he saw what Renesmee was holding.

"It's aviolin," she answered. Claire stopped crying the moment she saw the instrument and pulled herself over to Renesmee completely ignoring any pain in her arm or butt.

"What does it do?" Claire asked.

"It plays music," Renesmee answered. Then she propped the violin onto her shoulder, rested her chin on the black cup with her hand on the neck, placed the bow on the strings and started to play. She started with Auld Lang Syne because, firstly, it was the first song she had learned and, secondly, she knew that Claire and Zitiali would recognize it. It was a simple little tune and Renesmee only played the first two verses of the song.

"I want to try! I want to try!" Claire chirped reaching for the violin, eager to try it.

"Just mind your shoulder," Renesmee said before handing the instrument to Claire. She tried propping it up just as Renesmee had, but the instrument was too big for her and she found it difficult. All the same, she placed the bow on the strings and started moving. The sound that followed could only be described as nails on a chalk board with a dying cat meowing in the corner. She stopped; thank the Lord, Renesmee thought, when Claire realized the sound wasn't the one Renesmee made.

"It didn't work," Claire said with a forlorn look on her face.

"You just need to learn how to play it," Renesmee said. "I admit the Violin isn't my best instrument, but I can teach you a few things. I'll even teach you how to read music."

"You can read music?" Claire asked with wide eyes.

"Yes, you can," Renesmee answered. Then she proceeded to draw out the musical notes to Auld Lang Syne. "It looks like this." Then she hummed out each individual, pointing at the note as she went along. Then she helped Claire prop the violin back up on her shoulder and showed her where to rest her fingers on the strings for each note.

Each time Claire's fingers were on the strings for a note Renesmee helped her move the bow so the sound would come. She walked her through the song until Claire completed a verse. She walked her through it a second time then let her try it by herself. When left by herself, she went through each note much slower, but she eventually reached the last note and when she did, she was so proud of herself.

"I did it!" Claire announced.

Renesmee and Quil clapped for her and Claire seemed to forget all about the accident. Zitiali was less eager, but she did seem to cheer up a little bit. Renesmee encouraged Claire to play the tone again to which she happily obliged. By the third time she went through the short verse, she began to memorize it and she started playing with more flow.

"You're doing excellent, Claire!" Renesmee encouraged. The smile on Claire's face lit up the tent as she played the violin.

"I want to learn another song!" Claire yelled excitedly after finishing the verse again. She handed the violin to Renesmee and she thought a moment what song to play.

"Let me think," she mumbled more to herself. She tried thinking of a song she knew that was simple enough for a beginner. Eventually, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star came to her mind and she played that. She needed a moment to remember how to play it on the violin, but once she remembered, she played the song just as well as she'd played the other. "Let's try this song."

Renesmee helped Claire get the violin back on her shoulder and showed her each individual note just as she had before. This song was much simpler than the other with far fewer notes, so Claire was able to get the hang of the song with one try. And, again, when she succeeded, she had a beaming smile. This time, she looked right at Quil and held the violin and bow above her head victoriously.

"Look Quil! I'm playing theviolin!" she announced. Quil smiled and clapped for her.

"You're doing so well, Claire!"he affirmed with just as much excitement.

"Teach me how to play your favorite song!"Claire asked after finishing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star for the fourth time.

"Oh," Renesmee started, "I don't know if I know how to play my favorite song on theViolin." Renesmee took some time to play with the strings and explained to Claire that she needed to find the right notes. Eventually, she located where the right notes were and she started playing Moonlight Sonata. It was the first time she'd ever played that song on the violin before so when she played it, it was much slower than it was supposed to be at first. "Let me start over," Renesmee said when she wasn't pleased with her first attempt.

"That sounded pretty," Claire said.

"Its better when it's played at the correct speed," Renesmee said before giving it another try. This time, she played with more flow and accuracy. She was still slightly uncomfortable, but she was more pleased with this attempt than her first. Claire clapped as Renesmee played.

"You're right, that is prettier! I want to try, I want to try!"

"Moonlight Sonata is a hard song, Claire. Why don't I teach you the basics before I start teaching you symphonies?"

"What's a symphony?"

"It's a very elaborate song," Renesmee answered as simply as possible. It was really the only translation that would be accurate. Then Renesmee remembered a song that daddy had taught her on the violin. It had been Esme's favorite. "Do you want to hear my grandma's favorite song?"

"Yes!" Claire announced, allowing Renesmee to proceed to play her best solo interpretation of Mozart's Violin Concerto No. 5 in A. This one Renesmee remembered well, so she was able to play it in one go. With her chin in her hands, Claire listened intently with a bright smile.

Claire sat patiently through the whole song, sighing from time to time. Renesmee began to think that perhaps she should try to obtain a tiny violin for Claire so she could practice properly. The violin in Renesmee's hands was a little big for her.

"Will you teach me that song too?" Claire asked when Renesmee finished.

"I'll get you your ownviolinfirst. Once we've done that, I'll start walking you through the basics and we'll start learning more advanced songs once you're ready."

"You'd really get me my ownviolin?!" Claire squealed.

"I'm sure Jacob and I could find one in the city," Renesmee suggested. Claire cheered and ran out of the tent going straight to her parents to announce the good news. Renesmee and Sokajili laughed. "Would you like to learn how to play the violin, Zitiali?"

The little girl shook her head. "I'll pass, but thank you for offering."

"Are you feeling better at least?"

"It stings," she said.

"It will sting for a while, but the medicine will keep the wound clean. Just try to leave it alone," Sokajili said.

"Okay," she said before walking out of the tent.

"That's one way to heal the children," Sokajili said after the girls were both gone.

"It helped didn't it?" Renesmee answered with a smile. Claire came back just as delighted as before jumping up and down. Renesmee was pleased to see the fall wasn't quite as bad as Claire had been making it out to be.

"Mommy and daddy said I can play theViolinif you get me one!"

"Did you clarify that it was an instrument, not a toy?" Quil joked. Claire shushed Quil loudly and with a prolonged sound as she put her finger over his lips rather clumsily.

"Don't tell them," she whispered. "It's a secret."

Quil chuckled and gave Claire a hug. She only hugged back when Quil promised he would keep the violin a secret. Renesmee patted Claire on the head before leaving Sokajili's tent.

"And where do you think you're going?" Sokajili asked when Renesmee was at his door.

"I need to tell Jacob we have to go into the city again tonight."

"Away with you then," Sokajili said with a smile. "That goes to you two as well," he said to Claire and Quil. "You're both fine."

They all walked out of Sokajili's tent and Renesmee went right back to hers and Jacob's tent. Jacob was just as Renesmee had left him: sound asleep without any incentive at all to get up. Incentive or not, Renesmee walked to him and kneeled down so she could start gently patting his back. She said his name as she patted him, trying to wake him gently. Eventually he groaned, but he didn't open his eyes.

"Wake up, Jacob. I wanted to talk to you."

"I'm awake," Jacob mumbled, barely audible.

"Do you mind if we go into the city again tonight?"

"Why?" Jacob grumbled.

"Claire took a shine to the violin and she wants to learn how to play it."

"Let her use the one we have then," Jacob groaned.

"The one Janine gave us is too big for her. She needs a smaller violin so she can practice." Jacob groaned again and rolled over onto his back. He still didn't open his eyes though.

"Does it have to be tonight? We just went into the city."

"I promised we'd find her one tonight, Jacob." Renesmee sighed. "I suppose if you don't want to go, I can always go by myself."

"You're not going by yourself. You're a wanted woman remember?' Jacob managed to tease.

"Then stop your complaining. Honestly, what has you so grumpy this morning?"

"I'm trying to sleep and no one is letting me," he answered. Renesmee smiled at him and patted his chest.

"Poor thing," she teased. "Just remember we're going into town tonight for a small violin. I remember seeing a music shop downtown so at least we'll know where to go." Jacob groaned, but otherwise said nothing. Renesmee giggled at him and leaned down to kiss his forehead. When she tried to sit back up, Jacob took a firm hold of her and wouldn't let her get back up.

"If we're going out tonight, you should get some sleep too," Jacob mumbled after Renesmee tried getting back up.

Renesmee didn't argue with Jacob. Rather, she rested her head on his chest and allowed herself to doze off. Caevia noticed Renesmee go into her tent and noticed she also didn't come out. She'd overheard Claire announce to her parents that Renesmee was going to get her a violin. In truth, she was surprised Renesmee had a violin at all. She'd overheard her play it for Claire and her friend. She knew it hadn't been her best instrument so Caevia was impressed how well she'd done.

"Honestly, their honeymoon is over, yet they still spend all day in their tent," an older woman said while she was cleaning a pot. Caevia looked at the woman and was beat to defending Renesmee by Leah of all people.

"Oh, don't be so harsh on them," Leah said. "Some couples simply take a while to have children; they appear to be one of those couples."

"You would think they'd have had four by now," the older woman said. "You two were married not two weeks and you were pregnant," directing her comment to Caevia.

"I'm just exceptionally fertile,"Caevia smiled.

"Would it be in bad taste to call you an egg timer?" Leah asked in English. Initially Caevia was just a little offended. But then, she knew Leah meant no disrespect.

"Don't worry about it. It's working to my favor these days." Leah laughed and kept with her work. Caevia did the same.

As Renesmee promised, she and Jacob went back into the city that night and located the music shop that she'd remembered seeing. She managed to find a small violin, but it was a display model that was in desperate need of tuning. Jacob waited patiently while Renesmee plucked a string, then adjusted, and then plucked the string again before adjusting it one more time until the sound produced was to her standards. They left the city almost as fast as they'd arrived and were back before it was even midnight. The next morning, Renesmee presented the small violin to Claire and she was so excited she started playing right away. She remembered a little of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and played what she remembered. Only after Claire was finished did Renesmee start laying out all the instructional booklets she'd grabbed and start walking through the basics of reading music and of playing the violin.

Back in the small town of Neilton, Sgt. Lovejoy came into the room Peter had come to frequent since arriving. On the bright side, Peter was reading: a fine improvement to moping around doing nothing. Peter chose to ignore Sgt. Lovejoy at first as he often did and continued to do so until Sgt. Lovejoy sat down in a chair near the bed where Peter rested.

"I know you've been extremely frustrated," he began. "Though I'm sure you believe the contrary, I really do understand why you're so upset."

"Hm," was all Peter said.

"I stand by my decision that we aren't leaving this town until it's safe to do so, but I also realize that's precious time wasted." Peter finally looked up from his book at Sgt. Lovejoy. "So I've sent a telegram to the mayor in Forks and in Port Angeles. I know I said I wouldn't, but at this point it seems I have little choice. I've asked them to search the grounds of their nearby Indian tribes to see what they can find. They've sent reply that they will do what they can and get back to me."

"And if they find her? What will they do?" Peter asked eagerly. "Will they be able to keep her safe until we arrive?"

"Assuming she is still safe, then yes," he answered rather grimly. "You must remember what type of men we're dealing with. No matter what they did to your poor wife, you mustn't blame her for any of it. She is an innocent in all of this."

"Of course she is," Peter said. "Why would I think otherwise?"

"All I'm saying is I've known husbands that have grown rather disillusioned with their wives after they've been rescued. Rape being the likely fate she's suffered and all." Peter held his head down and nearly started crying.

"Poor Renesmee," he said. "We have to get her home or at least to the safety of good society."

"And if they find her, she will be. I've advised them to handle their Indians as they see fit for the crime but that Mrs. Wallis is to be completely unharmed. They also have the picture of her that your father provided, so they know what she looks like."

"Do you really think they'll find her," Peter asked after a moment of silence.

"One can only hope."