Rodeo

"This is it."

Edward fought to keep his jaw off the ground.

Mister Jacob Black lived in a fine house indeed. Off the main road a mile or so towards the canyon sat a pretty red-shuttered house with two wrap-around porches and wide open windows. The outside had been painted a fine white, some of it chippin' due to harsh weather. A withered tree sat bare near the front door, its spindly arms reachin' out for rain that would never come.

What it must be like to live such a life, Edward wondered. He wasn't cut out for fine things, that he knew. They were foreign to him - as foreign as the concept of an indigenous man owning so much to his name. Jacob Black lived leaps and bounds richer than his neighbors. No wonder they had cause to hate him so ardently.

"You mustn't tell him 'bout me. 'Bout the Trackers. None of it."

Though Edward'd had his suspicions, that came as a shock.

"You tellin' me your fiancé ain't know who he's gettin' into bed with each night?"

"He thinks he's marryin' the Sheriff's daughter. That's it. Anythin' else will only endanger him," Bella said with genuine sincerity. It spoke to the gravity of the situation that she didn't comment upon his further 'tarnishin' of her reputation'. "Please, Mister Cullen. Not a word."

Well, there was another miracle: she used the word please. Would wonders ever cease?

As Delilah wound her way up the front lawn, Jacob Black came runnin' down the stairs.

"What did you do to her!"

"Darlin', please don't shout - "

"She needs to lie down." Edward said, cuttin' this conversation off at the head. Arguing would do Bella no good, and time was precious. "Quickly now, inside!"

Jacob did as he was told and pushed the door open, shoutin' something to the staff. Of course he'd have staff. A rich man never did things himself.

One of 'em came runnin' down the steps to help Bella from the horse while another was ready to take Delilah to the stables. Kind of Jacob to service the old girl. Then again, it wouldn't be right to leave her standin' in the heat.

Bella moaned as she was moved, slumpin' down off Delilah's back with all the grace and tact of a newborn colt. Edward worried he'd pulled at her stitches, but her dress remained blood-free so he took that as a sign to keep movin'.

Inside, the house was decorated in fine things: a grandfather clock with a shiny bronze pendulum, gold-gilt frames of family portraits on the walls, claw-footed furniture in deep mahogany and crimson. Looked like a house for show instead of a homestead, nothin' with a bit of wear and tear, nothin' outta line. Countless fine things and all Edward felt was loneliness within these walls.

"What in God's name happened!" Jacob shouted as Edward lowered Bella to the settee. Thank God the furniture was dark in color. She was likely to bleed all over the velvet upholstery.

"Bandits came through. She got hit."

A maid ran by with some water and towels. Another fluffed extra pillows behind Bella's head, keepin' her propped up. It was funny to see white women serving in a colored man's home. Another oddity of Forks.

"It's just a flesh wound darlin'," Bella soothed her fiancé. Edward would be impressed if he weren't so sick. "Dr. Cullen fixed me up and I'll be right as rain in no time."

Easy to say when she couldn't see herself. Her face was pale and waxen, her eyes too bright and forehead sweaty. She looked like a ghost. But there was spirit to her and a smile on her face. She would pull through, of that Edward was certain.

"How did this even happen?"

"They musta known I was the Sheriff's daughter and thought they'd send a message."

"And how'n the hell'd they know that?"

"I dunno darlin...I dunno."

Jacob accepted this easy 'nough. Or maybe he'd been down this road one too many times. He said nothin' about the state of Bella's dress nor the circumstances of her arrival. He didn't question why the bandits would target the Sheriff at all, which spoke volumes 'bout the history of Forks.

This wasn't their first rodeo.

A lesser man would'a left such a troubled woman. But Jacob Black was no lesser man, that much was clear.

He walked over to the mantle - the house had a fireplace and everythin', tho why it would ever be used in such heat was beyond Edward. Perhaps the winters were bad, though he didn't plan on stickin' round long enough to find out. On the mantle sat a miniature of the clock they'd passed in the hall. Inside the face of that clock was a hidden compartment. From inside that compartment, Jacob Black pulled out a black velvet pouch.

Inside that pouch was enough gold coin to fun a small army.

"I am in your debt, sir," Jacob said in low tones, handin' over the gold to Edward.

For the first time in Edward's life, he pushed the coins away. "Please, keep your money. I didn't do it for that."

Maybe he'd gone crazy, cause Jacob Black sure looked at him like he'd hit his head. Only a stupid man turned away a fortune. A stupid man, or one wise enough to know that no amount of money ever bought happiness. Especially when that money came at the price of blood.

Still, Jacob put that gold back in its home, locking the clock up tight.

"You are a good man, Mister Cullen."

"Hardly."

Didn't sit right with his soul to be called good. Like the Devil knew he'd blasphemed and made sure to let Edward know. Jacob Black wouldn't call Edward a good man if he knew what he'd done. Jacob Black would send him to the gallows longside his bride to be if he knew what kinda folks they really were underneath.

"You were right to bring her here. If her Daddy'd seen her like this he'd tear up the whole town in a rage. Even I'm havin' a hard time keepin' this one down," Jacob said with a sigh. He was too young to look so weary, younger than Edward, maybe even his fiancée. "Bella doesn't like me to say it, but soon as we're married I'm taking her West. Somewhere with a breeze and trees far away from this wasteland."

Seemed right, Edward thought. Bella was suited for the trees and the green of the wild blue yonder. Dirt under her toes that didn't burn. Somethin' to match those wanderlust eyes.

So then why'd his heart ache at the thought of never gettin' to see those eyes again?

"Not to sound rude, but isn't this your land?" Edward asked. "Would it be wrong to leave it behind?"

"This land has hardly been mine," Jacob scoffed, somethin' weary in his tone. "My father doesn't even remember when it was his, or his grandfather's. None of us recalls a time when white men hadn't come to sink their teeth into us. Now all that's left is misery."

Misery was the least of it. So far, all this land did was take and take and take. It was heartless and soulless, suckin' the life outta good men and leavin' them to wither. Edward had only stopped here a short while but he could already feel his soul rottin'. He itched for the open skies and wide plains. He longed for the crisp air of night under the stars.

"Maybe it is better to get her outta here," he said finally, when the silence was good and heavy. "What kinda godless place shoots at women?"

And what kinda godless place raised women to shoot back?

One of the maids popped her head in the room to call for Jacob's attention. He excused himself and vanished down the hall, leavin' Bella and Edward alone in the sittin' room. She didn't seem too keen on talkin', lyin' back on the settee with her faced pinched in a grimace.

Still, Edward couldn't help but ask, "So, was it worth it?"

"Was what worth it?"

"Your revenge?" He was teasin' her, his lips curled up in a smirk as she scowled.

"You'd best not vex me, Mister Cullen. I may be injured now, but that won't last."

"Even after I saved yer life, you'd still hunt me down and shoot me dead?"

"You given up your sights on the bank?" Bella countered, narrowin' that gaze onto him with its full scrutiny. Edward couldn't keep her gaze for long, turnin' his sights on the mantle. Bella huffed. "That's what I thought."

"If you was a smart woman, you'd work with me instead of against me."

"What could you possibly have to offer?"

"Other than a fully workin' body and all my limbs? I can help you shake the Trackers."

"Why would you do that?"

"It's what we both want. Carlisle and the family don't want no trouble and you wanna keep yer life."

"I'd sooner let Shadow trample me."

Edward let out a laugh. He figured that was the name of her horse - the stolen one. The one the Trackers wanted her dead for takin' along with the life of one of their own. Such a simple solution to work together. Why wouldn't she take it?

Better question yet: why was Edward offerin'?

"Ain't no need to be hasty. Think on it while you're lyin' here in this fancy house, thankin' God and my father for yer life."

Jacob returned to the room, his business concluded.

"Mister Cullen, would you like to stay for dinner?" he asked, keen on havin' him stay.

"I'd best be movin' on," Edward said, amblin' towards the door. He'd outstayed his welcome and the couple would want to be alone. "Carlisle'll want me back before sundown."

Jacob walked with him. "I'll call upon your daddy later this week once Bella's on the mend. I owe him proper thanks."

Carlisle was owed no such thing, but Jacob wouldn't understand that. He wouldn't understand why Carlisle had to place a pistol between Bella's eyes to get her to speak plainly. He wouldn't understand why it would have been so much easier to let her go. Keepin' someone alive wasn't always the smart choice, and that kind of morality was lost on truly good men.

If Jacob Black wanted to show Carlisle his appreciation, he'd never speak of this again. But that was his mistake to make.

"Mister Cullen," Bella called.

Both men stopped at the door. When Edward turned back 'round, he found Bella sittin' up and lookin' him straight in the eye like she hadn't been shot. Just as intent and feisty as ever. She trapped Edward's breath in his throat, made it damn near impossible to reply right away.

"Yes?"

"You'll keep true to what I said, won't ya?"

"I will."

It would be hard not to. He was neck deep in the shit alongside her. So, he would keep her secrets. He would hide her truths from the world if only to protect his own. This was a dangerous game she was playin' ; he only hoped she had a plan to win.

Edward tipped his hat. "Good day to ya both. Rest well."

There would be no rest for him. Not for a long while.

The ride back to the Cullen house was a silent one. The streets were empty, the town unaware of what had happened just outside its borders. If news of the saloon shootout went far, it was old and unimportant now. A place like this was likely not to pay any mind to a stray bullet or two. So long as there was no body, there was no crime according to the law.

Edward hitched Delilah up himself back at the house, runnin' hands over her flank to make sure she was well taken care of at Jacob Black's house. Seein' nothin' wrong with the old girl, he made his way inside where everyone was waitin' round the kitchen table.

"Well, is it done?" Carlisle asked soon as he caught sight of Edward.

"She's safe at her fiancé's house. Not to worry."

"Plenty to worry," Esme countered, lines furrowin' her pretty brow. "Y'all cast that poor girl out with little but some cloth and a prayer!"

"Not a poor girl, Esme. Hell's Bells," Carlisle corrected, coverin' her small hands with his rough ones. Blood still tinged his skin a bit pink, unable to completely lose the stain. "We've been through this thrice now. It had to be done for the good of the family."

"Some family," Rosalie snorted.

No one contested.

"Edward, what did you see at the bank before shit went sideways?" Carlisle asked instead, weary.

The night was creepin' in and everyone was on edge. Everyone needed sleep and a clear head. This was hardly the time to talk about the job, but Edward was hardly in a place to refuse.

"They're rebuildin' in double time. Cuttin' corners and skippin' the finer bells and whistles," Edward said, recallin' all he could before Hell's Bells had scrambled his brain. "Caught a glimpse of the new safe. It's sturdy alright. Seamless steel. Will be one hell of a beast to cut through and damn near impossible to blow without melting what's inside."

"There has to be a way," Carlisle insisted, fingers steepled under his stubbled chin. "We're strikin' by week's end, then we're gone."

"Have you mad?" Emmett asked, surprisin' cause he never had an opinion on these types a things. "We just set up in this town. The Trackers are here. We should lie low 'til they're gone."

"You gone soft, boy?" Carlisle asked, the question not needin' an answer. "I ain't ask you what you thought. I'm tellin' you what's gonna happen."

"And I'm tellin' you old man that you're crazy!" Emmett shouted. He must'a been at wit's end to make such a fuss. He stood from the table and started pacin' back and forth through the small kitchen. "I ain't ever say no to you Carlisle cause until now you ain't ever steered us wrong, but this? This is one too many bad omens. If we go back for that safe now we're all doomed."

"Is that how y'all feel? Scared on superstition?" he asked, eyein' 'em all up.

"Darlin', think just a mo," Esme implored, reachin' out all sweet like. "We ain't run into nothin' but trouble since we came through here. It just ain't worth more risk. We have all the gold and money we need to make it through the winter. It may be tight, but - "

"Ain't no buts woman! That gold is ours! Ain't no Tracker's, ain't Hell's Bells'. Ours." Carlisle stood and braced himself over the table. He looked damn near feral, wild-eyed and dangerous. "I told ya. It ain't about the amount. It's the principle."

"What good is principle if we're dead?" Jasper asked.

There was no answer.